Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Round 1

Will, Bob and I had known each other for many years through college sports, nights out drinking and various other ‘guy things’. Though I knew they were gay, this had never made a difference in our friendship. We really had much more in common than we had differences. They had always respected that I wasn’t gay and had never seriously come on to me. Boy did that change after a night of watching pro wrestling on TV!

The three of us were hanging out at Will’s house one steamy August evening watching the pro wrestling matches when the subject turned to how the matches were so obviously faked. Bob was making fun of some of the costumes and noting how it was always the women whose clothes seemed to get ripped off while the guys managed to keep their little Speedos intact. We all laughed at the sexual connotations and possibilities of some of the holds and moves. This took the conversation down the path of what would really make wrestling entertaining. Bob suggested that they should go back to the days of the Greeks when the contestants wrestled in the nude. Will agreed whole heartedly and added that to make it really high stakes, the defeated wrestler should be subject to the humiliation of having to satisfy the winners lust right there in the ring in front of the whole world as a penalty for losing. After all that hot body contact, it was hard for even me to think they never got turned on by each other.

Laughing at the prospects of nude, high stakes wrestling on network TV, Will and Bob began to horse around in their own match. Before long, Bob ended up with his head in a leg scissors that left his face only inches from the obvious bulge in the crotch of Will’s cotton gym shorts. Kidding that he lost on purpose so he’d have to suck him off, Will let Bob go with a laugh. Once released, Bob half jokingly suggested that we all strip down and wrestle for real, just the way we had been laughing about only minutes earlier. Will responded that that sounded like a great idea so that he could finish what he had started with Bob. As Bob’s idea became less of a joke, they looked at me to gauge my reaction. Laughing nervously, I said it sounded like more fun for me if it was mixed wrestling with one of the gorgeous women valets on the screen. Pointlessly, I reminded them that I liked women and had never done anything even remotely like what was being suggested with a guy, particularly the loser’s fate.

Despite my protests, the idea of having our own match seemed to take on a life of its own. Clearly, both of them were enthusiastic about the idea and wanted me included. The more I said no, the harder they tried to convince me. Even my offer to serve as referee fell on deaf ears. After a bit more friendly cajoling and a promise that if I lost they’d let me off at anytime I was too uncomfortable with what was happening, they finally wore down my resistance and I agreed to participate. As I thought about the prospect of engaging in naked combat with my two friends, an unmistakable bulge began to grow in my shorts.

The sexual tension and anticipation in the air was almost palpable as we all got undressed. Quickly, I began to strip off my tee shirt and gym shorts before I had time to change my mind about what I was getting myself into. As my underwear came off, I was acutely aware of the sensual feeling of the warm, muggy air on my naked skin and the nervous, naughty feeling it gave me to be deliberately undressing in front of Will and Bob. I couldn’t help sneaking peaks at the two of them as they undressed nearby. Though I’d seen both of them nude in the showers and locker room at the gym and after basketball, etiquette and interest had kept me from taking good looks. Now, I was curious to see what their ataşehir escort bodies looked like compared to my own and to see how well they were hung. The curiosity seemed to be reciprocal as I caught them looking at me more than once.

As I watched Bob pull his BVDs over a firm, round bubble butt, the feeling of nervousness I had felt as I undressed began to change. For the first time I actually felt like I had permission to look at another guy’s nude body! I’d certainly thought about the potential of having sex with a guy before (be honest now, what guy hasn’t even if only to dismiss it?) but had never come even close to doing it. Now, here I was stark naked and about to wrestle for my virginity. My cock started to twitch and swell. Will noticed and gave me a sly smile. From the look of his semi hard on, he was also looking forward to the coming action.

When we were all naked, we moved the furniture out of the way and dragged some cushions and mattresses to the center of the room to be the mat. The exertion, combined with the 90+-degree summer heat and humidity, made our bodies glisten with sweat, emphasizing our muscles as it trickled across our bare chests and down our backs. I watched as a drop of moisture ran down Bob’s back, over the firm curve of his ass and splashed on the floor.

Will suggested we oil ourselves up with baby oil to make it more interesting. Bob quickly agreed, so we took turns rubbing the slick oil all over each others bodies. I’d never touched a guys butt before and certainly not his cock and balls nor had anyone ever touched mine. The feeling of their rough hands spreading the oil all over my sweating skin was exciting. So was the feeling of Bob’s cock and balls in my hand as I hesitantly joined in and oiled him up. He smiled as I stroked the oil into his hardening cock, glad to see I was becoming a willing participant. Enjoying the freedom to do so, I looked him right in the eyes as I gave him a few extra gratuitous strokes, feeling him swell in my hand.

Oiled up and with the ring ready for action, we agreed on the rules. Since there were three of us, it would be a two against one, round robin handicap match, two out of three falls to win. The person who drew the lowest card from a deck would wrestle each of the other two individually. If they won both of those matches, the losers would have to submit to whatever sexual acts the winner wanted. If they lost both matches, they belonged to the winners and had to submit to them. In the case of a split of the singles matches, there would be a third match, two on one, to decide the winner. The singles matches were to be decided by a pin for a 10 count or submission. The two on one match could only be ended by the loser’s total, unconditional submission to the winners (we did agree that only one of the two had to be pinned or submit for the team to lose). Conditioning would be a factor as well as we agreed there would be no time limits.

All that was left was to draw the cards. I went first and, to my relief drew a 10, thinking it would be high enough to be part of the two-man team. Will went next and drew a king. We high fived each other figuring that the chance of Bob beating my 10 was pretty low. With a smirk, Bob drew the ace of spades. My heart stopped as I realized what was potentially in store for me. I began second guessing my mental decision not to take the option of asking them to let me off easy if it came down to that. The expression on their faces as they ran their hot eyes over my naked flesh left no doubt in my mind about the consequences of losing.

The first match was between Will and I. While I was taller and heavier than Will at 6’3”, and about 200 lbs, he was avcılar escort at least as strong and more athletic at 6’ and 185 lbs. His olive complexion glistened from the baby oil and sweat, highlighting the definition in his muscular, hairless chest and six pack abs. I found myself looking hungrily at his hard body, anticipating the feeling of it rubbing against mine as we intertwined our limbs in lusty battle.

We started tentatively, silently circling and trying to find an opening to take the other to the mat, a process complicated by the slickness of the baby oil and sweat on our nude bodies. Finally, I was able to lunge at him, grab an arm and spin around behind him before he could get away. With his arm twisted behind his back in a hammerlock, I tripped him and we fell face first to the mat, landing with a hard thud with me on top of him. I quickly grapevined his legs with mine, spreading them apart while releasing his arm and clamping on a full nelson. The combination of sweat and baby oil caused our bodies to slip and slide against each other as he squirmed underneath me trying to escape. The feeling was so arousing I could have stayed there forever, my nipples rubbing against his broad, muscled back while his ass slithered against my cock. The room was filled with the sound of our heavy breathing and his grunts and groans as he desperately tried to work himself free.

His squirming and attempts to escape me left my semi hard cock pressed squarely into the crack of his ass, something we were both very aware of. Every time he twisted or bucked against me, the tip of my cock probed against him as if it had eyes and desires of its own. The feeling was incredibly erotic, particularly when he (deliberately?) squeezed me with his firm cheeks, trapping my hard on in the hot crack of his ass. Thoroughly enjoying the feeling, I did nothing to try and reposition myself to avoid poking him.

Realizing that I couldn’t pin him this way nor was it a submission hold, I released the full nelson and grapevine and swiftly moved up to straddle his back before he could escape. From there, I planned to turn him over and try to pin his shoulders with my knees for the win. However, as soon as I moved my weight up his back, he raised his butt in the air, bucked me forward on my face, and twisted out from under me. Quickly grabbing me by my calf’s and locking them under his arms, he spun me around in an airplane spin. When he finally let go, I sailed across the room landing hard on my back. Between the spinning and the impact of the toss, I was a stunned, dizzy and disoriented target for him.

Before I could regain my breath or my senses enough to react, he pounced on me triumphantly, applying a body scissors that he squeezed so tightly I thought my ribs would break. As I strained to separate his ankles to relieve the pressure, my problems got worse. He reached down and grabbed my cock and balls, giving them a good firm squeeze and a hard painful yank for emphasis. With his legs in the way, I couldn’t reach his hand to try to pry it loose.

It’s hard to describe the thoughts and feelings going through my head at that moment. The crushing pain from the body scissors was almost overwhelming and I thought of giving up if I couldn’t get away soon. This thought naturally lead to thinking about the consequences of losing and I found myself fantasizing about what it would be like to be forced to open my lips to his hard cock, what it would taste and feel like sliding in and out of my mouth. The rough feeling of his hands grabbing my crotch, rubbing, squeezing, twisting and generally molesting my oil and sweat slickened cock and balls only added to my confusion. It would be a lie to say that alanya escort he didn’t have me aroused – his touch had me hard enough to drive nails even as I gritted my teeth against the crushing pressure on my ribs. Despite my fantasizing and the obvious physical enjoyment I was getting from having him roughly handle my cock and balls, I still wasn’t sure I was ready to have sex with a guy.

Having me in his control, Will began taunting me verbally, describing how he was going to keep me in the hold so he could stroke my cock until I came and how there was nothing I could do about it. As my cock swelled from his manipulation, he laughed about it being so obvious that I was enjoying my torture. Somewhere in the back of my mind came the recognition that he was right – in fact I was getting turned on from being at his mercy. Now it was the sound of my moans and grunting that filled the room.

After a lot of squirming, moaning and groaning, I managed to separate his ankles and get away. We rolled around on the mat for a while, putting each other in different holds, while grabbing each other by the cock and balls every chance we could. Finally, I grabbed his arm and trapped it underneath me, I maneuvered around so that he was on his side in a head scissors with his nose stuck in the crack of my ass. With one arm pinned, he clawed frantically at me with the other, trying to get me to shift so that he could get some air and I’d stop trying to crush his head, a cause that was lost when I caught his free arm, leaving him defenseless.

The more he twisted and squirmed, the more firmly his nose pressed into my sweaty butt cheeks. I could feel his warm breath on my balls and the bristles of his chin on my upper thighs as they rubbed against me. Remembering the trash talking I had endured when I was at his mercy, I smugly asked him how he was enjoying the view and the feeling of having his nose stuck in my ass. His muttered reply was lost in the tight grip of my legs. Slowly, his resistance faded to no more than a token despite Bob’s cheering him on to not give up. I released my grip on his head and rolled him onto his back so that I was straddling his head with my knees, pinning his shoulders to the mat, a position that placed my cock and balls practically on his chin. As he gasped for breath, I asked him if he wanted to surrender but he refused, renewing his squirming and bucking just enough to raise a shoulder and avoid a 10 second count for the pin but not enough to have any hope of escaping.

Enjoying my position of superiority, I decided to take advantage of the situation and rub it in by verbally and physically, taunting him about his helpless predicament. Slapping him in the face with my rock hard cock, I reached back to squeeze, twist, stroke and grope his cock and balls, just as he had earlier done to me. As his cock swelled to its full, thick 7 inches, I threaten to make him cum right then and there, reminding him with a laugh that now he was mine and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it other than surrender. Finally, after several minutes of this treatment and in danger of cumming from my stroking, Will reluctantly gave up.

Savoring the moment, I stayed on his chest, grabbed him by the back of his head and boldly ordered him to lick the sweat off my balls before I’d let him up. With a sigh, he stuck out his wet tongue and did as he was told. His tongue felt so different from the women who had licked me there before. It felt rougher and courser than a woman’s though equally as warm and wet. I loved it! Bob shifted to where he had a perfect view of the action while stroking a huge 8-inch erection. I couldn’t tell if the lust in his eyes was from wishing he were me getting my balls licked or that he was Will, forced into submission. Seeing as we were all enjoying the situation (to one degree or another), I kept him at it for several minutes until I felt that I was in danger of cumming myself. After getting one last lick, I climbed off of his chest and let him go. One down I thought.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

“It’s cold in here,” I mumbled, trying to hold back a giggle.

“It’s no wonder you’re cold baby, you’re half-naked,” my fiancé, Adam, said.

It was 2:30 in the morning and I was DRUNK. Adam, myself, and a friend of ours, David, were drinking Jack Daniels and Coke and hanging out, just having a good time. But what David didn’t know, is that Adam and I had other plans.

We had been interested in a threesome with another man for a while, and David was perfect for the task. I had been “fuck-buddies” with him long before Adam and I got together, and to be honest, I missed his nice hard cock (He was always awesome in bed). Adam had told me that he wanted to fuck me while I sucked another man off, and even let the man fuck me while he sat back and watched. I liked the idea, so we started tossing names to see who would do it, or who we could ask. So, I asked him what he thought about David. Knowing about my past with him, he just sat back, smiled, then told me to go get him for us. I asked David about it a few times, and he always jokingly said that he wanted to fuck me again, but it never really seemed like he was interested. So, Adam and I decided to just go for it. We invited David over for a few drinks, and he supplied the Jack Daniels, so we got the coke.

David got off of work at around 11 pm, and as soon as he got here, the liquor started to flow. Now, I am a pretty hard drinker. I can usually drink most sailors under the table. But for some reason, the alcohol went right to my head. After my fifth or sixth batman escort (I lost count), I couldn’t focus my eyes anymore. I knew I was gone, but no one else was. Next thing I know, I’m asking them if they wanted me to model some of my more “scandalous” clothing. Of course, I got a big “YES”.

I popped into the bedroom, my head swimming, and started to look for what I would wear for them. Then I found it. Adam once made me a pair of “fuck-me” shorts. He took an old pair of my jeans and turned them into jean thongs. He said he wanted to see more of my beautiful ass.

So, I threw those on with a blue baby-tee and a pair of black high-heels, then I strode out into the living room. It was completely quiet, but they sure did stare holes into me.

It felt great. I had them both in the palms of my hands, and I loved it. I strutted around for a few, then decided to play the shy card, mainly because I knew that it turned David on.

I sat back on the couch and crossed my legs, just grinning wickedly at both of them. At this point, I could see them both bulge in their pants. I just continued to drink and have some fun. Joking and laughing, and taking any excuse to go to the bathroom, or go into the kitchen, just to tease them a bit.

We started to watch a few movies, and then popped a porno into the VCR. I took this as a great opportunity. I asked Adam to go into the bedroom and get me a blanket to lay on. I pulled up some pillows and laid down on my belly in front yalova escort of the TV, giving the two of them a nice view of my ass.

I laid there on the floor for a little while, listening to them make comments about me and how I looked. All of a sudden, I stood up and dropped the shorts, saying they were un-comfy. then took off the shirt, saying it made my back itch.

So there I was, naked on my living room floor, with two horny ass men staring at me with lust in their eyes. I just rolled back over, teasing them and watched some more of the porno, and getting really hot.

Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I stood up and stated, “I am going into the bedroom now, if anyone would like sex, follow me.”

No sooner did I get into the bedroom and fall onto the bed then they were both in there with me. David sat in my computer chair and Adam and I put on a little show for him.

Adam is great at eating pussy, so he started to do his finest. He pushed me onto my back and ran his tongue over my clit. I was in heaven and began to moan. Every time his tongue touched me, it sent electric shocks all through my body. The fact that David was watching us had us both hot.

Adam started to finger-fuck me while he lapped at my clit, and that drove me over the edge. I came hard and fast, writhing on the bed, listening to Adam and David moan as well.

Adam then started again with renewed fervor, and I got a great idea. I turned him around and sixty-nined with him, sucking his dick while he tongue-fucked ordu escort me. I snuck a glance at David and saw him smile at me as his fingers followed the ever-growing bulge in his jeans. That was almost too much, and it threw me into another hard orgasm.

I laid back on the bed and Adam got me a cigarette, giving me a chance to relax.

“Nice show, ” David said with an evil grin on his face.

“I thought so, ” Adam smirked, his cock bulging and purple.

“So, hun, you gonna come over here and join us or what?” I asked David.

He then slowly got up and stood at the end of the bed. I got on all fours as he dropped his pants, and I swallowed his hard cock whole.

It had been a very long time since I had had David’s dick in my mouth and I was loving ever minute of it. Then I felt Adam push his cock into my pussy. I almost screamed. It felt so good. I was really enjoying myself, and apparently so were they.

I pulled David onto the bed and let him lay down. I sucked his cock hard while Adam fucked me from behind. We went on like that for quite some time, the I knew they were gonna blow.

I clenched my pussy muscles up to make it nice and tight for Adam while I pushed up the pace with David.

Then, when the moans were indistinguishable as to who’s were who’s, I came, and so did they. I had one cock fill my pussy with cum while another filled my mouth. That made me cum again.

We stayed like that for a while, locked together, then we finally collapsed.

David had to go home, but made us promise that we’d do it again. We did, and after he left, Adam and I fucked till dawn.

That was one of the most erotic experiences in my life, and guess what…

David is coming over again tomorrow to “hang-out” again.

Life is good.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

“Shit!” Melanie slammed down the phone and walked over to the window. Staring out at the ominous clouds blanketing the lake, she said it again. This can’t be happening, she thought. I can’t be stuck here, today of all days. But she’d heard it for herself: The airport was closed for the rest of today and possibly tomorrow, depending on how hard the storm hit.

She went back to the phone and called her office. Her secretary told her that the storm had already shut down most of the airports from the Great Lakes through the Ohio Valley and that she was better off staying right where she was.

“Why is that?” Melanie wanted to know.

“Look, kiddo,” Peggy was sixty-two years old, had been with the company forever and called everyone “kiddo”, including the CEO, “They’re calling this a ‘once every 10 years’ kind of storm. You’re lucky to still be at your hotel. You could be stuck sleeping in one of those very uncomfortable chairs at the airport, fighting with the other passengers over who gets the pillow. I know; I’ve done it.”

Though not convinced, Melanie had to laugh. “I guess you’re right, Peg. Listen, call my clients and explain about the delay, will you? And tell Bill that I’ll spend my time going over those quarterly reports he wanted. I’ll email them to him la—”

“I’ll tell Kaiser Wilhelm nothing of the sort,” Peggy snorted.

Bill Campbell was the third company president that Peggy had served under and the one she least respected. She called him Kaiser because, as she put it, “His pointy head reminds me of the helmets the German officers wore in those old WWI movies”.

“You listen to me, kiddo,” she continued, “this whole layover has serendipity written all over it. Forget about work and treat it as an unexpected holiday. Enjoy yourself. Do something wild and crazy.”

Melanie laughed harder. “Peg, I’m stuck in Vermont in the middle of a winter snowstorm. I don’t ski, I don’t ice-fish, and they roll up the sidewalks at noon. What am I supposed to do that’s wild and crazy, go out and rent “White Christmas” in the middle of February?”

“You’ll think of something.”

Melanie hung up, still laughing, and called down to the desk to extend her reservation. Her good mood quickly faded. “What do you mean, you have no more rooms? What’s wrong with the one I’m in?”

“I’m sorry,” the woman on the other end of the phone sounded young, “but it’s Valentine’s Day and the start of President’s Day weekend. This is one of the biggest ski weekends of the season and most of these rooms have been booked for months.” She added, “With the storm and all the fresh powder coming down, the phone’s been ringing off the hook with people trying to make reservations.”

Melanie was tempted to ask how those people seeking reservations were planning on getting to Vermont, what with the airport closed, but she thought better of it. Anyone crazy enough to want to visit during this kind of weather would no doubt find a way, she thought. But as for those of us who are stuck here against our will…”You mean to tell me that even though I can’t leave because the airport is closed, I don’t have a place to stay, either?”

“We can try to find you a room at another hotel, ma’am, but that’s the best we can do.”

Melanie wanted to scream at her. Ma’am? You’re calling me ‘Ma’am’? What are you, twelve? Instead, she took a deep breath and said, “Is there a manager on duty?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Goddamn it! If she calls me that one more time—”What’s his name?”

“Mr. Hailey.”

“Will you tell Mr. Hailey that I’ll be right down to straighten this out?”

“Yes, I will, but ma—” Melanie cut her off in mid-ma’am by hanging up.

Less than ten minutes later, Melanie stepped out of the elevator and entered the crowded lobby. She flagged down a bellboy and asked him about Mr. Hailey. He pointed to a crush of people standing near the reception desk. She stared at the crowd of ski jackets and snowsuits and felt a momentary pang of guilt. God, I’m glad I don’t work here. This guy’s got real problems. Then she straightened her shoulders and walked purposefully toward the desk. Fuck it. I need a room.

She worked her way through the pack and found herself facing a tall, gray-haired man whose maroon and silver badge read, “Trevor Hailey, Day Manager”. She waited a few moments for him to notice her and when he didn’t, she spoke his name loud enough to be heard over the din. He glanced at her and said, “I’m sorry. We’re full up. Try the Sheraton.”

She spoke his name again, louder this time. When he looked at her again, she gave him her brightest smile. “Look,” he began, “I’m sorry, but we—”

“Mr. Hailey, my name is Melanie Nichols and I’m currently staying in Room 312.” That stopped him.

“Yes, Miss Nichols?” he asked, giving her his full attention.

She glanced at the group of skiers who were loudly debating the merits of any hotel that couldn’t accommodate extra guests during the best snowstorm zonguldak escort of the season. “Could I have a few moments of your time?”

He followed her glance and nodded. “We can talk in my office.” He turned to the young woman standing with him at the counter. “Try calling the other hotels again. And tell these people if they don’t behave themselves we’ll be forced to call the police.”

“But, Mr. Hailey, I already called the other hotels. They don’t have any room available, either.” Melanie recognized her voice from the phone and gave her a quick appraisal. Not exactly twelve, she thought. More like nineteen or twenty. Probably a college student, working to have some spending money or to help with tuition.

“Then try the motels and the B&B’s.” The manager’s voice took on an exasperated edge. “Just find some way to get those hooligans out of my lobby.” Melanie followed him into his office and sat down across from him. “Now then, Miss Nichols. What can I do for you?”

She shrugged. “Well, after watching those people out there, I’m sorry to bring it up, but I’m afraid that I’m stranded and in need of a room, too. My flight was cancelled when they closed the airport and when I called down to extend my reservation, the young lady out there told me the same story you told them.”

“Unfortunately, Linda was telling you the truth.” He shook his head. “Believe me, I don’t like turning away business, but we’re overbooked as it is.”

“Look, Mr. Hailey. I understand your situation. I really do. But please try to appreciate mine. I’m a business traveler – a regular customer of this hotel – and I’ve just been told that I not only can’t leave but that I have no place to stay, either. Isn’t there something that you could do?”

He stared at her a moment before saying, “Well, I’m not going to promise anything, but what room did you say you were in again?” She told him and he turned to his computer terminal. Melanie amused herself during the wait by looking around his office, but he interrupted her almost immediately. “Your reservation has you listed under the last name of Masterson.”

“Oh, that.” For some reason, she found herself blushing. “I’ve only recently gotten divorced and I’m going by my maiden name now. But all my ID is still under my married name, so when I travel…”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. It happens all the time. The way security is at the airports now, I’m lucky I don’t get strip-searched.”

“No, I meant that I was sorry to hear about your divorce.”

“Oh.” His stare was back and for the first time she noticed the color of his eyes, deep pools of gray and blue surrounded by flecks of green and gold. She let her gaze trail down to his moustache; it made her think of a thick slab of quartz with veins of silver spider-webbed through it. She blushed again as she fought down a sudden image of those hairs scratching against her swollen labia. “Thank you,” she managed. Get a grip, girl! “It’s been…difficult.”

“I can imagine.” He turned back to his computer and began punching out some rapid keystrokes. Melanie glanced around the room, trying to get a feel for the man on the other side of the desk. Experience had taught her that you could often learn a lot about a person from the way they decorated their office. This one, however, told her very little. The room was clean and almost obsessively tidy. But there were no homey touches, no pictures of loved ones or scribbled notes from children. Are you that private, she wondered, or is it something else?

“What about you?” she asked. “Is there a Mrs. Hailey?”

“No, thank God.” His chuckle was dry. “And no little Haileys, either.” He laughed again, louder this time. He noticed her puzzled stare and said, “I’m sorry. It just occurred to me that if there were any little Haileys running around, they’d be legal adults by now.” When she didn’t respond, he added, “I’m gay.”

Once again, the best she could manage was, “Oh.” And then, a few moments later, “OH! You mean the last time you were with a woman was…”

“Almost twenty years ago, yes.” She laughed with him this time, but inside she felt as if she’d just been sucker-punched. Oh, Christ! He’s gay. She fought the rising bile in her throat. Can this day get any worse? Her spirits perked up a little when he said, “Hey! I may have found you something.”

“Great!”

“We just had a cancellation. It seems two women were coming to Vermont to have a Civil Union ceremony performed and because of the storm they decided to hold off. So we have a vacancy.” He looked up from his terminal. “It’s the Honeymoon Suite.”

“The Honeymoon Suite?” Melanie was shocked. “Oh, no. I couldn’t.”

“Why not? It’s a nicer room than the one you had and I’ll be able to rent it out at the corporate rate.” When she hesitated, he added, “And it’s the only available room in the hotel.”

“I’ll take it.”

“Excellent!” He stood up. “It’s actually ready now, bursa escort so I’ll get you your key and you can go on up. I’ll have your bags sent over later.”

She thanked him and took the key, walking away on wobbly legs. Riding up the elevator the extra two floors to her new room, she felt light-headed and leaned against the wall for support. This can’t be happening, she thought again, opening the door to the suite. The front room was okay, a sofa, a couple of chairs, wet bar, television, nothing out of the ordinary. She braced herself for the bedroom. She turned on the light and cringed.

The bed was shaped like a heart.

Melanie immediately recalled a line from an Albert Brooks movie: “If Liberace had children, this is what their room would look like”. Well, it’s not quite that bad. But it’s close. If it has a built-in vibrator, I’m going to scream.

She went back to the anteroom and opened the curtain. The snow was coming down hard now; big, white flakes that swirled and danced like down feathers in a pillow fight. She slumped onto the sofa. In her mind, she heard Peg’s voice. Well, let’s see now, kiddo. You’re stranded in Vermont. Alone. In the Honeymoon Suite. And it’s Valentine’s Day. One year to the day since you caught your husband cheating on you. With another man.

Can your life suck any harder?

Melanie closed her eyes but she couldn’t shut out the memory, the white-hot vision of that day. She’d decided to treat her husband Paul to a little Valentine’s Day surprise nookie at his agency. Arriving just before noon, she planned to slip into his office, lock the door, and ravish him during his lunch hour. With any kind of luck, she hoped he might just recover in time to return the favor that evening.

His secretary told her that he was in a conference with Eric, his boss, and that she shouldn’t disturb them. Of course, Melanie agreed. Far be it from her to disturb Paul and Eric while they were in conference. As soon as the secretary left for lunch, Melanie opened the door to Paul’s office and walked in. To hell with Eric, she thought. He had her husband at his beck and call 8 hours a day. For the next hour, she wanted him to be all hers.

Her first thought when she entered the room and saw them was that Paul had dropped something at Eric’s feet and was bending over to pick it up. Then she noticed that Eric’s eyes were closed and he had a look of utter rapture on his face. Frowning, she moved to the side of Paul’s desk and was just in time to see Paul’s extended tongue lash the tiny slit at the end of Eric’s thick, meaty cock. She watched in horror as his mouth opened in a wide oval and engulfed the circumcised head, swallowing the shaft all the way down to the root. She couldn’t help noticing the distinct and startling contrast between her husband’s sandy-colored moustache and his boss’s dark, curly pubic hair.

Eric opened his eyes and saw her then. To her everlasting surprise and shame, he looked at her without shock or embarrassment, or even anger at the interruption. No, he simply smiled at her and asked if she wanted to join the party. She looked away from his leering face, down at her husband, who was only just then realizing that she had come into the room, and she saw something even more horrible. Paul’s pants were down around his ankles and he had his hand curled around his long, beautiful cock – her cock, as she liked to think of it – and from the angry, inflamed look of it, he was obviously close to coming himself.

She barely made it out of the office and into the restroom before she threw up.

He followed her home and she spent that night, the worst night of her life, desperately trying to rid herself of the image that had been seared into her brain: The sight of her husband on his knees sucking another man’s cock. She railed at him. Haven’t she been a good wife? Given him enough sex? Been inventive enough for him in bed? Without meeting her eyes, he assured her that she had been all of those things and more.

Then what? There had to be something, she knew. Unless blow jobs had become fashionable at work these days. Unless getting the key to the executive washroom also meant fellating the man who’d given it to you. Unless earning a quarterly bonus depended upon the amount of semen you swal—

Paul cried out in such agony that she stopped, startled by his outburst. It’s not you, he said finally. It’s me. It’s just…the way I am. What are you, she demanded. Gay? He shook his head. Bi? He shrugged. What then? I don’t know, he admitted. But I’ve been that way as long as I can remember. She stared at him, the man she had known intimately for almost a decade, the man she had sworn to grow old with, and was stunned by the realization that she hardly knew him at all. She said one last thing to him before leaving their home forever.

You should get help.

Melanie writhed on the sofa, unable to stop the flood of memories or the malatya escort flow of tears that streamed down her face. I was so cruel, she thought. So wickedly cruel. And I hated myself for doing it – for saying those things – but I couldn’t stop myself, either. Because every time I stopped, I saw them again. My Paul. On his knees, mouthing Eric’s penis, wearing a look of lust such as I’d never seen on him before. Had he ever looked like that when he’d gone down on me? She couldn’t remember.

A knock at the door interrupted her.

“Yes?” she called out.

“Miss Nichols, it’s Jonathon, the bellboy. I’ve got your luggage.”

“Just a minute.” She wiped her face and did a quick inspection in the mirror. Oh, Christ! I can’t let anyone see me like this. She dug a five-dollar bill out of her wallet and placed it on the bar. “Look, I’m just getting in the shower. Why don’t you leave the bags by the sofa and I’ll put them away later. There’s a tip for you on the counter.” With that, she disappeared into the bedroom and closed the door.

She came back out a few minutes later to find her bags sitting on the carpet and the counter empty. Well, I’m all moved in. She glanced out the window. If anything, the snow was coming down harder now. She sighed. And it looks like I’m not going anywhere for a while. Melanie stared out at the cottony sky, lost in thought, seeing nothing. I need a drink, she decided finally.

She opened the small refrigerator. There were three bottles of wine tucked in the door. She was about to go eanie, meanie, minie, moe, when a sudden thought occurred to her and she burst into a fit of giggles.

Absolutely, she thought, reaching for the Zinfandel. Under the circumstances, it has to be the ‘fruity’ wine. And with the lovely, elegant screw top, too. She twisted off the top and tossed it in the general direction of the trashcan. She took a sip, swishing the tart liquid back and forth in her mouth before swallowing. Oh, yeah. That’s the Brunch of Champions.

She surveyed the room, taking little sips as she walked. Now then, she thought. What do they have in this burg that qualifies as entertainment? She scanned the list of cable channels on top of the television. Wait a minute. This is the Honeymoon Suite, for crying out loud. Don’t they have any porn? Maybe you have to call the desk and order it. She had another fit of giggles. She saw herself calling down to the front desk. Mr. Hailey? This is Melanie Nichols in the Honeymoon Suite. I’m feeling a bit bored and I was wondering if I could order up some porn on my television? Why, of course, Miss Nichols, he’d answer. We have 10 separate channels for you to choose from. All gay.

She collapsed onto the sofa, laughing so hard she almost spilled her wine. Oh God, she thought, when she’d regained some control. That would be just my luck. Of course, the men in those movies are usually pretty well hung. And it would be more cock than I’d seen in a good long while. Who knows? Maybe one of them would belong to my husband. She took another swig of wine. Ex-husband, that is. She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting back tears.

All right, she thought. Time to change the subject. She opened her eyes and saw a folded, laminated card sitting on top of the bar. On the front had been drawn a heart and under it written the words, ‘Especially for You’. Melanie opened it and discovered a list of special amenities the hotel offered its Honeymoon Suite occupants. She noted that the tub in the bathroom was oversized and could be used as a hot tub, complete with bubbles. Also available for the romantically inclined was a complete ‘Chateaubriand for Two’ candlelight dinner. And then she saw it.

“Get a Massage: The perfect way to prepare for a romantic evening or recover from a long trip. Performed by a licensed Massage Therapist, combining essential oils (aromatherapy) and moist heat hot packs, this Swedish Style Massage will increase your circulation, decrease stress and completely relax your muscles. Time: Approximately 90 minutes. Cost: Individuals, $150; Couples, $250.”

Well, Peg did tell me to enjoy myself. She dialed the front desk before she had a chance to change her mind. When Linda answered, she said, “Hi, this is Melanie Nichols in the, um, Honeymoon Suite and I was just reading that you have a licensed Massage Therapist on staff and I wanted to know if I could schedule an appointment for later today.”

“One moment, please.” Melanie heard pages rustling. “We don’t have anyone else scheduled for today,” Linda said. “I’ll have to find out if he’s available and call you back.”

“He? It’s a man?”

“Yes, ma’am. Is that a problem?”

Melanie thought a moment. For some reason, she hadn’t expected it to be a man. Was it a problem? No. He’s probably gay, anyway, she thought, suppressing a laugh. Hell, for all I know, the whole damn state is gay. “No,” she said, finally. “It’s not a problem. Please call and find out if he’s available and let me know.”

A few minutes later, the phone rang and Linda told her the Massage Therapist could be there at three. Melanie sat back in the sofa and raised the bottle. “Well, Peg,” she said aloud to the empty room, “here’s to ‘Wild and Crazy’.”

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**Note to readers:

Oh man, I’ve really written myself into a corner with this one.

For the Witch’s Want tale, I wanted a guy out of antiquity – a fearsome warrior with a legend. So I picked a name. There seemed to be enough things in Sumerian history for it to work.

Ok, that was before I read the rest. I’ve just found out that their son, Ur-Nammu, had a son himself – a pretty important and legendary character. Well crap, I didn’t want that! So I wanted to write this as a prequel to The Witch’s Want. I figured maybe 3 chapters of the couple’s back story and then get on with what the witch wants, you know?. Oh hell, no. I’ll be lucky if I can do this in 5 chapters. I’m not a scholar in ancient Mesopotamian history, so if you are, please do your best to overlook the way that I’m about to torture history.

———————————————–

She held out her hand and they walked back to the hearth. Looking around, she found two of his blankets rolled and set aside. She unrolled them and laid them out on the floor. “Sit as we did before,” she said.

It took much less time and effort this time to get them together. In only minutes, she had him moving his fingers quickly enough to maintain his own state and they sat for a time only smiling at each other in their prayers. Slowly, once he’d shown some ability to keep some sort of pace, she took one of his wrists and asked him to do the same, before bringing their hands together.

Then she began to teach him at the pace where their minds could exchange information without the delay of spoken words being heard and interpreted, without the pauses of seeking the correct inflections of speech and the couched terms that come unconsciously when conversing. There was no thinking about what might be meant in the space between them now. Everything was what was meant; no more and no less.

“So you know, in spite of the many lesser gods” she thought to him, “that Ammuru is the main and most powerful, along with his wife, Belet-Seri, the queen of the desert, the scribe of the earth, recorder of the dead. These must be kept foremost in the mind, and so it is easier for me if I use one hand for those prayers and the other for whatever the matter at hand might be.”

She found that his mind was as hungry as the rest of him for this, and when she judged that he’d had enough theology for the moment, she instructed him in simple and basic defensive magic. In this space, there was no time lost over his being incredulous and needing to be shown. He just absorbed everything.

It was much the same with the language. In minutes, he had a grasp. He couldn’t speak it, not having tried yet, but he had a basic understanding of many everyday nouns and verbs, enough to catch some of what was spoken around him, though here, no one spoke this tongue. She told him it didn’t matter. He’d need this for when she taught him to read.

Finally, she knew that he was tiring, but what he’d already learned in this one session amazed her. Even so, he still wouldn’t stop.

“What is the gated bridge?”

“It is a bridge near where it is said that the faith began,” she answered. “I have been there and seen it. The bridge is a causeway to an old stronghold on the mountain of Jebel Bishri. It is far from where the temple was, but not as distant from here, if what I feel is right. When I was brought here, I saw some caves not far from the city,” she thought to him, “There was a sign in the rock there. One could ride through the caves to reach the bridge quickly if this is the right sign.”

“The Dead Caves,” she heard his thought to her, “I am not from here and all that I know of them is that no one goes near there at night. The dead were brought there at one time, but no longer, from what I have been told.”

“I need to go there,” he heard her words, “I need to see my mother once more.”

“But your mother is dead.”

“Yes,” she answered, “she waits to see me at the bridge. I must go soon.”

“Then we will go,” he answered.

“How?” She looked at his face.

He smiled slightly, “Somehow.”

“I enjoy this with you,” she thought to him.

“I will always hunger for your thoughts,” she heard his mind say, “but will I remember any of this later?”

She smiled a little wider and told him yes, that now, he’d likely remember everything.

“You have done so much for me,” she thought to him, “but there still remains the matter of the lock. I will tell you of this soon, but for now, I will say that until now, there has been no place in the faith for more than priestesses. I have seen how this constrains us in times when warriors are needed, so I will do things differently.”

She moved very slightly to find a bit more comfort for herself without disturbing what they did, “High priestesses have always taken up the position and used the lock as they saw fit, and this has worked. But in times like these, a more forceful priestess would serve better. I am such a priestess, but even that is not enough.”

“I will şişli escort not take up the task completely and then seek a consort, for the lock cannot be moved then. Since we are here together and we know what will be between us, I will take you as my consort and share the lock at the outset, because I know that you would have my heart.”

“What of my new gods?” he thought to her, “They may not wish it.”

“The high priestess is far from any of the remaining faithful now,” her mind replied, “There is only decline for the faith if I must somehow make my way back with the lord general’s army at my heels and begin out of the dust and ruins. I believe that the gods are willing and when we begin between ourselves to open and fit the mysteries of the lock of the faith, we will know it if they speak at that time.”

“But I wish to know one thing from you at the outset, Lugalbanda. Between us, how do you think of pairing with me? If it is only something between a woman and a man at first, this will suffice for the purpose, but I am a woman, and I would like to know.”

“We cannot dance through the meadow yet,” he replied, “but you told me that you care for me and that we will love between us. I see no reason not to try to begin this now and then grow comfortable as one would with a set of new sandals. I have my own hope to love you which you saw, and I cannot think of this as only blind rutting.”

“Unless that is what I want from you?” her thoughts asked.

His gaze had been locked on her eyes the past few minutes. He now looked and saw her little mischievous smile.

“Unless that is what you want from me,” he answered, “But if it is so for the time that comes, as you say, then you must say it.”

“No,” she replied, “For the time that comes, I need as much of what I see in your heart there as you can give to me.”

“Then it will be so,” he nodded. “I wanted to say,” he smiled to her, “that you do not need to struggle with my name so much as you have. At its heart, I am Banda, but my mother added Lugal to the front a little hopefully, I think.”

“You do not need to explain it,” she thought to him, “I understand it. Lugal is to say ‘a great man’ or perhaps ‘king’, and these you are to me. With much luck and some blessings, we shall see if it rises for others as well.”

—————–

He didn’t lose consciousness when they stopped this time, but he found himself on his back anyway. The priestess smiled at him softly by the light of the fire and their clothing lay over one of the chairs. He watched her get to her feet and walk to the table and return with the pitcher of wine and one goblet.

She was a little different from most of her people, having black hair rather than the more common reddish hues common among the her kind, though her eyes were blue like so many of her people. He sighed to himself, – and she certainly carried the wild fierceness they were famous for. There were theories among the scholars, but no one really knew where they came from. Some of them were as far away the lands of Canaan and even Egypt, but they were outsiders there as much as they were to any other people anywhere else. They traveled far and there were many of them, all of them fierce if roused.

“Why do you smile?” she asked him.

“I have traveled far, wherever I was sent,” he said, “I have seen many people in my marches and rides. I cannot think that I have ever seen one so lovely as my priestess.”

She chuckled, “An answer such as that, warrior, wins you some wine.”

As he sipped from the goblet, she reached for his manhood and began to stroke it, liking the feel of it in her hand and hoping that she was doing it correctly. She looked at it and wondered aloud, “How will this ever fit?”

His response was several minutes of choking as he fought for breath while the priestess alternated between heartfelt concern for his survival and laughing her head off at the faces that he made.

“What I mean to say is,” she said, feeling a little foolish, “I have served in the gardens and I have seen that it is supposed to fit. If a child can come out, then this must be able to go in … and out … a few times.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes, “And then as that is going on, the couple must groan to each other like sick dogs and shout the other one’s name now and then. It is all very simple.”

He laughed a little, “Well, thank you for removing the last scrap of romance from an act of love.”

She was about to explain how that was what she’d seen when he began to laugh even more.

“I have not said anything else,” she said, “why are you laughing at me?”

He shook his head, still laughing slightly, “I am not laughing at you, I never would laugh at you” he said, wiping a tear from his eye, “I only saw us for an instant just as you said. We could not do it that way, you and I.”

“And why not?” she asked, beginning to chuckle herself from the way that he laughed.

“Beautiful Nisi-ini-su,” he gasped, chuckling, tuzla escort “neither of us has the sort of name for that kind of passionate shouting. Can you hear us calling to each other like that?”

She pictured the scene in her head. A moment later, they were both laughing.

He watched as she sipped from the goblet herself and had a passing thought. He decided that he would do his best out of his want for her comfort, as much as it was possible to do.”It is no crime not to know,” he said gently.

“But I do know,” she snapped back very slightly. She knew that he was trying to help. She was nervous and felt a little stupid.

“It is a little different to see and to do,” he offered.

“But – “

“I warn you, Nisi-ini-su, you begin to sound like a hen again.” He chuckled, “I do not mate with hens – no matter what you might have heard about me.”

It worked and she laughed, but spilled a little wine onto one breast and it ran to sit on her thigh. She reached to wipe it when he stopped her.

“I do not seek to make you feel foolish, beauty, but it is not so simple as you think. A child might pass out of there, but that is never easy and what I have for you can pass in – and out, but if you are nervous it will go only a little easier than the child. Either way holds pain for you. I would help in this if you would allow it. If you sit on me right now and seek to accomplish what you have watched, it will likely happen – and you would not like it. One of the secrets is to be comfortable and peaceful. Sit and enjoy the wine.” He sat up a bit and came closer to her.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

He smiled, “I will enjoy the wine too.” Then his lips and tongue were on her breast feeling softer than the lightest brush of the finest gown. She wondered how such a light and sensuous touch was possible. She set down the goblet and caressed his head. She waited for him to move to her nipple, and he did before he followed the track of the drops to where one still hung underneath. His tongue felt wonderful.

She decided that for once, her impetuous and hot-headed nature could go to hell. She’d seen into his heart and knew that he cared for her. He’d been with a woman before a time or … well, he was no virgin as she was.

She watched as he lowered his head to her thigh. When the wine was gone, he kissed his way back up. He moved her hair from her face gently, “Come, Nisi-ini-su, lie with me. I promise that I will do my best so that you enjoy this time. What do you need for what you would do?”

She shrugged after lying down, “The simplest answer is that I have had a man there.”

“Then as your friend, I say that this is no more correct than just sitting on that part of me,” he said. “Of course it will fit, but it goes better where it is welcomed.”

After his gentle kisses and the pleasant attacks of his tongue between her thighs, he did his best to illustrate his point. And of course, by then she had to agree. The priestess wondered about the ease of it, but he smiled and told her that he’d seen her on horseback and her answer to his question was that she’d ridden since she was a young girl. “I take no credit then for deed,” he smiled. But she gave him an argument anyway, telling him that he was more than she could have wanted.

——————

She held up her hand and the little pouch left the table and found its way through the air to her. He watched her and noticed that while she’d been having fun, she now looked serious as she knelt before the fire. Her hand shook slightly as she unrolled the pouch so that it was flat on the blanket. Her hand got as far as the flap and then she seemed to be stuck at that point.

He touched her cheek with the back of his hand, “What is it, Nisi-ini-su?”

She shrugged, “I think that this is some sort of moment for me. I wonder if I am fit for this on the one hand, and if I open this, I almost wish that the main piece was not here. If it is here, it means that my mother is truly dead.”

She turned to look at him and he saw that her eyes were brimming. “Yet,” she sniffled, “if it is not here, then none of the rest would work. And … I already know that it is here,” she wiped her eyes, “I can feel the bulge.”

“Well,” he said, “I think that you are fit for it, and there is no one else. What must you do?”

She thought about it. “I need a long knife, and for this, if you can trust me, I would like to keep it for myself. For what I would do here, I must make one lock into two.”

He got up and returned with a newer blade. Beyond thanking him, she said nothing, but as soon as it was in her hand, she knew that it was the best one that he owned. She laid the open pouch down and surveyed what looked like a child’s collection of plain small pieces of gravel. Laying them out in a definite pattern, she said, “Combined, this is the lock of the faith, though even like this, it lies hidden.”

She passed her hands over the stones, and they turned to gleaming pendik escort polished orbs. She bunched some of the blankets into a place for him to lay his head. “I have never seen this done, and I have never heard of it being done in the way that I will try to do it here.”

She smiled at him a little shyly, “At the least, I have seen this done before.” With a few soft kisses and the work of her wet lips, she had him hard again in a minute or so and then she eased herself down onto him. She leaned forward a bit to enjoy it for a little while. He noticed the structure of her arms as she rode him and thought about seeing her with a sword. She hadn’t held one in months, but the musculature was still evident as were the lines of the tendons.

Rather than speed up, she slowed after a time and just moved in subtle motions. She sat back a little and he watched her hands in her prayers until she stared at the main piece for a moment before stopping. The priestess carefully split the fragment and handed him a piece.

“After all of this is done, you will have to learn many prayers, Lugalbanda, for I try here to make you into something like a priest to share this power with. Before you try to argue, remember that you are the worthy of this in my eyes, and I have made my choices – both in you for myself, and for the faith. Now, place this in the center of my breast near my heart and hold it there.”

She began to move her fingers in prayer and he placed the stone. She only moved just enough to keep them both a little pleased. When he thought that nothing would come of it and wondered how to ask, there was a bright light between them and he saw her convulse for an instant and then she smiled as she reached for the second piece.

“This could not be done by you if you were not seen as fit by the gods. Because of you, the faith has a new high priestess,” she smiled, “far from where she needs to be and now it needs a new and still-learning high priest.” She held the second fragment to his chest and the flash came even quicker because of her hand.

Different fragments were split under her blade and placed in various spots on them as she dictated. All of them disappeared into their bodies. Each one had a purpose, she said, as she explained them, and each time, they heard sounds within themselves which she said indicated the approval of the relevant deity. The second last set was a challenge, as it required certain parts of their bodies to be in contact, such as their wrists for a moment, or their thighs, one at a time. This was accomplished with much care and straining so that if at all possible, they could remain joined. There was nothing in any writings of this, but the priestess told him that for all of the difficulty of it, it would signal their joint intent to the gods. When the second last set was completed, they both heard drums. He stared up at her, “What does this mean?”

“The war god is very pleased with us both,” she smiled, “hear the quick rhythm. It will come to you at times when you fight to help you go on. I have heard of this from my mother.” She began to move in time with what they heard, but after a little while the sound faded and she cut the last fragment.

“There is one more set that we will share between us,” she said, “there is one more by itself, but it must go to the leader of the faith. Once it is placed, all the stones will be the right size as if there were only the one set once more. The power will almost double, I think.” She handed him what looked and shone like a small gem.

“Hurry, now, my warrior,” she said, “this one must sit where my collarbones join. Place it now and hold it there for me.”

Another flash and it was done.

“These last,” she said, “go at the very bottom of our bodies. I will place yours first, and you will know where to place mine.” She leaned back a little and pressed the gem against his perineum. What he felt was warmth, but he knew then where to place hers. When she laid herself on top of him, he reached and, holding the stone between his thumb and forefinger, he felt with his middle finger, and then set the stone into place for her. All that they heard was the other one’s moans, though by then they’d stopped moving.

She looked into his eyes and smiled. “Such a gift to me and the faith,” she said soundlessly in his mind.

“I can hear you,” he thought to her, “and we do not pray with our hands.”

“We no longer need to,” she answered, “we are joined by the lock. As it was when it was in pieces in the cloth, it was the lock and the high priestess is the key. Once the main piece is placed, the priestess becomes the lock and the rest become the keys. What we have done has never been done, my great friend. I think that the gods know that it must be different this time. I am needed, but you are needed also, and this way, the lock of the faith is safe.”

Minutes later, she was in the bed. “We are both weary after a day of days which began with my hatred,” she said, “come to bed now, and I will do my best to please you for all the work that you have done to learn and to help me. I have found joy with you, but you have not spent your seed nor felt its release. I would begin it now between us, I think. Do not think of sleeping on the floor. I need little space and if I can hold you, there is room enough here for me.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmami ister misin?
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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmami ister misin?
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It was raining like it did every fucking night in the city. The weather people say it’s because all the asphalt heats up in the sun and that hot air rises and meets cooler, wet air above the city. That and all the smoke from the fires cause the moisture to condense and come down as rain. The tall buildings make it worse by funneling the heat up and by slowing the flow of cold air around them.

It wasn’t a big problem until the city collapsed because there were few fires. Once it did, there was no electricity for heating and cooking, so the residents started burning anything that would burn. On the rare day when it doesn’t rain, you can see the columns of smoke from all the fires rising. The smoke particles attract moisture like a hooker sucking a cock, and the result is rain later on.

I was being very careful because not being very careful meant I’d probably end up being very dead. Daylight in the city was dangerous enough, but it was about two AM and the animals were on the prowl. It was one of those animals I was hunting that night.

That’s what I do. I’m Rich Anderson, and I’m a hunter.

I learned my trade courtesy of Uncle Sam and a stint in Special Forces. I get plenty of jobs because like kids have always been, there are some who think their parents are too strict and think the city with its lack of rules would be better. Their parents want them back, and they hire me to find them and bring them back. It’s sort of like the old Frank Buck movies, except my quarry is an errant son or daughter instead of a lion or leopard. Sometimes I think lions and leopards would be safer and easier.

Chastity Meadows was her name. Her father was an ultra-religious minister who had clamped down on her from the time she was born. It was the religious revival movement of the 2050’s I suppose. In 2053, Iran launched nuclear warheads at New York, Chicago, Miami, Denver, and Los Angeles. They were destroyed by the US missile defense system over the Atlantic and Pacific, but it scared the shit out of people.

Preachers and priests and rabbi’s across the US blamed the way society had sunk into the depths of sin for the attack. It was going to be like Sodom and Gomorrah if society didn’t get back on the correct track. God would not allow any society to continue to exist that wasn’t of a pious nature. A lot of people believed them and it seemed like half the goddamned country went from being normal people to being ardent church-goers and trying to live pious lives.

To most of those people, being pious meant treating other people like they would want to be treated and doing their best to be good citizens. To the ultra-religious, piety meant no drugs, no alcohol, no music other than music proponing belief in God, plain non-revealing clothes, sex only to reproduce, and praying for anything, everything, and everyone. Most of their kids didn’t know any better and fell in line like they were supposed to.

Most isn’t all, though, and a few, like Chastity, didn’t like wearing long dresses and listening to religious music all the time. She wanted more freedom and there really aren’t any rules in the city. One night about six months before, the nineteen year old slipped out of her house, managed to make it over or through the fence of the gated community where Reverend Meadows lived, and headed into the city. She left a note saying she needed to see what the rest of the world was like and that she’d be back if she didn’t like what that was.

The open entrance to the storm sewer was just high enough I could stand up and it had water running a couple inches deep in the bottom, but at least I was out of the rain. That storm sewer was my entry point into the city. It had originally had rebar forming a barrier at the new city limits, but I’d cut that open two years before so I’d fit through. The sewer was apparently never inspected by anybody on either side of the city limit because my hole stayed open, so I had a hidden, if dark, wet, and nasty, way into the hell of the old city.

At the other end was a concrete raceway that led storm water from that sewer in the old city to the river that ran west through the suburbs. The trees along the edge of part of the raceway were where I’d parked my truck. Nobody ever came down to that part of the raceway either, so my truck would be there when I got back.

I lifted the night vision goggles from my eyes and perched them on top of my camouflage rain hat, then took the picture from the inside pocket of the camo jacket under my camo rainsuit and clicked on my little flashlight.

Chastity was the picture of a girl just budding into what would one day become a beautiful and sensuous woman. She was blonde with innocent eyes and a smile that looked impish. The long dress didn’t show me much of her figure because it didn’t fit tight, but even so, it was obvious she had pretty big tits for so young a girl, and her ass was already the wider ass of a woman.

The description I got bayburt escort from Reverend Meadows and his wife said Chastity was five seven and weighted about one ten. The height jived with the picture. The weight, maybe. It was hard to tell because the dress didn’t fit anywhere.

I put the picture back in my pocket, checked the mags and chambers of the two nine mil’s on my belt, and then picked up the MK-18 assault rifle I’d leaned against the sewer wall and checked its mag and chamber. I also checked the mag and chamber of M-26 shotgun system attached to the rifle. The mag for the MK-18 only held fifty rounds and the one for the M-26 six, but I had six more mags for the MK-18 and four for the M-26 in my vest.

The rifle and shotgun system are illegal for a civilian to own, but when a US Congressman asked me to bring his son out of the city, I told him I’d probably need some significant firepower if I was to have any chance at all. I said my two nine mils probably wouldn’t be enough since there were M16’s and AK’s all over the place there. Two days later, there was a knock on my front door.

When I opened it, there was nobody there, but the box lying on the step contained the MK and M-26, fifteen mags for the MK, and a thousand rounds of ammo for it, half of which were armor piercing with a tungsten carbide core. The box also contained two hundred 12 gauge buckshot rounds for the M26 and ten mags.

After pulling the night vision goggles back down, I picked up the MK-18 and started toward a run-down house ten blocks from the storm sewer. There didn’t seem to be anybody walking around, but I still kept in the shadows of the buildings.

The city hadn’t just collapsed over night. It took a lot of years to turn a once-thriving center of finance and industry into the fucked up shit hole it is today. There are a lot of theories as to why that happened, but they’re all just the bullshit ramblings of educated idiots who make a living by publishing that bullshit without having to do anything about it.

The real reason was politics. The liberal politicians proclaimed it was society’s duty to take care of the poor of the inner city, and promised them pretty much a free ride through life. That was to get them the votes they needed to stay in power in the city.

The conservative politicians also needed votes so they were agreeable to all of those promises except they wanted the people to work or get an education and eventually get off the dole. That let them keep control of the suburbs.

Both sides were worse than the philosophizing fools who write about the causes. They stood on their platforms every election year and spouted off their policies, but once elected did nothing except increase their fortunes and buy posh houses in exclusive communities outside their districts. The result was a population of city residents who didn’t work, didn’t have many of the things the suburban residents had, and turned to crime to get what they wanted.

Crime rose, then rose again. While the politicians were promising to end crime — the liberals by paying the people to be good citizens and the conservatives by putting the offenders in jail — the city began to change.

Industry left first and along with the jobs, took the tax money they’d been paying into the city coffers. Finance left next, transferring their corporate headquarters to new buildings in the suburbs and taking their tax money with them too. When industry and finance left, so did their employees.

Those employees moved further away from the city and just to be safe, changed the suburban areas into gated communities with fences and armed guards. As those areas grew, they became a new city with fences and guards that effectively kept it isolated from the old. In only about fifty years, the old city became an entity walled off from the rest of the state.

As the tax money ran out, the old city was forced to reduce the size of the police force. It didn’t take long before the city residents figured out their chances of being caught robbing a store or selling drugs ranged from slim to none. They also figured out that killing the victim reduced those chances even more. As crime increased again, those stores closed up and moved outside to the gated communities. The drug trade flourished as well, fueled by dealers who supplied the drugs and by people frantic to escape what life had become.

Within twenty-five years, the city was basically run by the gangs of drug dealers. The politicians had fretted and fussed and made more promises. The gangs took a more practical approach. They knew they could have complete control if they played their cards right and those cards were the election system. In one election, the mayor and most other elected officials of the city were removed from office and replaced by candidates controlled by the drug dealers. There were rumors of a fixed election, but nobody would come forward bartın escort and testify, so the election results stood. The few remaining relatively honest politicians resigned and retreated to their nice homes outside the city.

After that, the city became more of a third-world country than a city. The fences around the city had been intended to keep people in the city and out of the suburbs. They also served to keep anybody who wanted to change the new order out of the city. The new mayor formed his own police department and stationed them around the periphery of the city to keep out people the new government didn’t want interfering in their affairs. The state responded by cutting off the electric power and natural gas that fed the city.

When that didn’t change anything, the state essentially gave up and turned the city over to the residents. I suppose the state politicians thought the residents would eventually repent and beg for support from the state. Maybe they thought the residents would quickly kill each other off and the state could regain control. I don’t know which it was, but the city turned into a hell of gangs, drugs, whores, and the murders that usually go hand and hand with those ills of society.

In spite of all the crime, the city actually had something resembling an economy and that economy was environmentally friendly, well, except for the whores and drug dealers. It was based on salvage of anything in the city that could be removed and put on one of the cargo planes from South America that landed at the old airport on a weekly basis. You’d think the Federal Government would have stopped them, but doing so would have meant shooting them down. That would have probably killed some innocent people, and letting those planes fly into the city didn’t hurt anybody, so they didn’t try.

The plane would unload a supply of food, booze, clothes, guns, ammo, and of course, an assortment of drugs. These were taken to the city exchange run by the drug dealers. You took your copper wire or toilets or marble or auto parts or whatever to the exchange and were given something the drug dealers deemed of equal value. Food was the highest sought, with weapons second and clothing third. If you already had what you needed, you asked for drugs. They were the currency of the old city. Those salvaged items were then taken to the plane. It dropped them off at recycling centers in South America on its return trip.

Just my take on what really happened. I should know. I grew up in that hell before realizing I’d probably not live to see thirty. My dad had been killed by a rival gang when I was fifteen, and my mother had OD’d two years later. The night of my eighteenth birthday, I took my birth certificate out from under one of the boards in my closet and cut my way through one of the fences. The next morning, I enlisted in the US Army so I’d have a place to live and food to eat. I suppose listing the city as my place of birth when I enlisted in the Army was how the Congressman found out about my past.

My Army training told him I had the skills required. All he needed was to convince me to go back once I got out of the Army. He had money and I didn’t, so that was pretty convincing. After I brought his son back to him, I started getting more requests.

Anyway, I was heading to that house because of what I’d learned on a trip into the city a couple days before. I have a few semi-trusted informants in the city, and I wanted to talk to a couple of them. I say they’re semi-trusted because they’d sell me out to anybody if they had half a chance and the price was right, like maybe a quick hand job or a warm bottle of beer. They’re willing to cooperate with me only because they know I’d cut their balls off if I thought they were even thinking about that. The two bottles of bourbon I brought along were just my way of asking politely.

One didn’t know anything about a blonde or about anybody named Chastity. The other looked at the picture for a couple minutes before saying, “Yeah. I seen her last week. She’s shacked up with Lady Madison in her whorehouse over on Elm. Didn’t talk to her ’cause Lady Madison don’t like men talking with her bitches, but I heard her call the blonde Chastity. Nice tits on that girl. I like more ass on a woman, but she had really nice tits.”

I knew about Lady Madison because I’d grown up about ten blocks from her whorehouse. She was the lesbian madam of the business known as “Madison Spa and Massage”. She’d managed to not only stay alive in the city but also to start a business that kept her fixed pretty well. She’d managed that by being more ruthless than anyone who tried to take her down.

Lady Madison’s real name is Sharon Morgan, and she started whoring at the age of eighteen. Sharon liked girls, but she didn’t like men at all. She only did it to survive, and if the story I heard is correct, never fucked even one man. She only sucked cocks.

She ığdır escort had higher aspirations than just giving guys blow jobs, and started hiding part of her take from her pimp. I take it he was pretty pissed when he found out so he tried to beat the hell out of her. He made a big mistake in trying that, because Sharon was ready for him. He was starting toward her with his fist raised when she pulled a small pistol from her bra and shot him in the belly. He was still alive, or so I’m told, when she took a knife and cut off his ears and nose.

After she had four of the girls drag his body out to the street, Sharon took control of the whore house and started calling herself “Lady Madison”. Word spread fast that you didn’t fuck around with Lady Madison, and she earned the respect of the drug dealers in the area. They left her alone and paid to use her girls. She didn’t suck cocks any more, but she had a few girlfriends who would suck her clit for her.

With any luck, Chastity was one of those girlfriends, and that made me feel a little better. I wasn’t sure what Reverend Meadows would do if I brought him back a daughter who’d been fucked by a couple hundred guys. If she was one of Lady Madison’s girlfriends, she’d have been spared that. Lady Madison doesn’t like to share.

Madison Spa and Massage had light in most of the windows when I stepped between the two piles of garbage in the alley behind it. The light was from candles placed in each room, so it was pretty dim, but the night vision goggles let me see what there was to see. I had time to look because it was only a little after two. The johns would still be coming for a while yet. After that, things would settle down and I could start looking for Chastity. I had a fair idea of where she would be. There was a room on the first floor in back with the curtains open, and the inside was definitely not a whore’s room like the rest. The rest, at least the ones I could see inside were pretty sparse.

All I could see in them was a bed and a chair, and the few sessions I watched showed me why both were there. The bed…well, it’s obvious why it was there. The chair served to hold the john’s clothes while he did his thing. The girl usually wasn’t wearing much more than panties and a bra. She just pulled the bra down under her tits and the panties off one leg, so she didn’t need a place to put them.

That other room wasn’t really a typical woman’s bedroom, but it was a far cry from the whore’s rooms. The bed was there, of course, but so were a couple of fancy chairs and an ornate wardrobe. The wardrobe was on the wall I could see, and there were a couple large pictures of nude women hanging beside it.

I didn’t see anybody go in there either. That probably meant the room was Lady Madison’s bedroom. As soon as the last john left, she’d probably go there for the night. She’d probably take a girlfriend or two with her. With any luck, one of them would be Chastity. If not, I’d have to look through the house until I found her or go home and come back another night. I knew Lady Madison employed several armed guards, so rummaging through her house wasn’t very appealing.

Nobody bothered me while I waited except for a couple rats almost as big as housecats, but I hadn’t expected anybody to come down the alley. Before, when there were cops on patrol, most bad guys used the alleys so they wouldn’t be seen. Now, with no cops, they used the streets. Alleys were just a place to pile up garbage and other stuff and let it rot. The “other stuff” was the result of when the electricity was shut off; the water plant stopped supplying water so the toilets wouldn’t work. That made a stinking mess and that was another reason nobody used the alleys.

Along about three, I started seeing the light in most of the rooms go out, and by three-thirty, only that one bedroom was still lit. As I watched, a woman with short hair and dressed in a satin gown walked by the window. She stopped beside the bed, and stood there until two other women walked up beside her, a red-head and a blonde. The red-head untied the robe and the blonde slipped it off Lady Madison’s shoulders and then walked away from the window.

Chastity might have dyed her hair but the red-head looked too tall for Chastity. When she took off her top, I was sure she wasn’t Chastity. Her tits were barely there, and the only reason they showed much at all was her bra. Once she took that off, well, I’d seen men in the army with bigger tits. Her ass was too wide as well unless Chastity had put on quite a bit of weight.

The blonde walked back in front of the window then. She was naked and when she turned to look out the window, I knew I had Chastity. Her eyes didn’t look quite so innocent, but her nose and mouth were the same, and judging by how far up the window frame her head came, she was the right height unless she was wearing really high heels. She also had really big, really soft looking tits.

Lady Madison sat down on the bed, then rolled over on her back and spread her legs. The redhead crawled on the bed and started playing with Lady Madison’s tits. The blonde climbed up between Lady Madison’s legs and knelt down. She was barefoot and I hadn’t seen her stop to take off her shoes. It had to be Chastity.

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Pairs of Pumpkins Patches:

Her Knight In Shining Armor

(“Patches” are standalone, supplemental stories in the “Pairs of Pumpkins” Universe that exist outside of the chapters and timeframe of the main story. They explore and detail ideas and characters in the world, who may have some secondary or tertiary connection to the cast and events of the Pairs of Pumpkins storyline, even if they never intersect with it.)

Author’s Note: Pairs of Pumpkins is “sexy fantasy” more than it is erotica, and these stories are Novelettes more than Short Stories. I promise though, there is a sexy pay off but it won’t come quickly.

I should warn that this particular “sexy fantasy” also contains violence but nothing to do with the sexy parts. Lastly, the story is set in a school of sorts but all participants in the sexy parts are 18/”Senior Year” equivalents.

Chapter 1

Slick. Pointed. Massive. Incredibly hard. The bold red of her cock stabbed skyward, a hot iron of forbidden desire in the cool air, lit through her window by the light of the waning, crescent moon. She desperately wanted to touch it. To taste it and put her mouth around it. More than anything in this moment of weakness, she wished to plunge it into the embrace of the most gorgeous creature she’d ever seen, the Ivory Vixen.

Sitting alone in her modest dorm room, Bobbie wasn’t supposed to think these thoughts. She was a righteous Paladin in-training, an Acolyte almost to graduation. A Paladin was not supposed to be entranced by the foul tower of sin rising from her own lap, inches from her white-furred muzzle, her eyes crossed to focus on it.

It twitched as she flexed it, teasing her with how close it would be to her own mouth if not for her second, freakish deformity: a pair of breasts of remarkable size, heavy and bulky, each one the size of her skull. They were still restrained in the custom-fitted, metal breastplate of her suit of armor and in moments like these, the extra barrier helped keep the bestial urges of her perverse body at bay. She knew she could reach it though.

She hated the way she had developed, a freakish anomaly of nature according to the strictly religious doctors of the Abbey. Once she’d been a lanky boy with an out-of-proportion sheath but at puberty she was as surprised as anyone to grow into an outrageously curvaceous, feminine form, with wide hips, a narrow waist and an enormous chest. Her figure was now the epitome of boyish fantasies that she herself was guilty of, with a weight and bulk that was now always in her way. Despite her vow of chastity she was attracted to females before she had developed into what she could only rationalize as a She.

Most of the other, all-male acolytes would admit some attraction to women but she was the only one who saw a pair of giant, teenage breasts every time she looked down. Breasts she had to resist wrapping around her cock every time she got an erection.

She hated the way her own body had turned her on but through calm of mind, learned through years of meditation practice, she could control that self-disgust.

What she was less confident in controlling was how her body reacted to a particular Initiate Priestess, a stunning beauty she knew only as the Ivory Vixen. She hadn’t heard her voice. She didn’t know her name. While she’d only seen her from afar, she was entirely irresistible.

“The Abbey of Ferridor’s Righteous Right Hand” was the premiere academy for elite Paladins and Priestesses, with an extensive, seminary wing for the training of both. Segregated from the main compound, The Academy was split again by gender into two, long, parallel buildings. One for the all-male Paladin Acolytes, of which she was considered and the other for the all-female Priestess Initiates. The two were separated by a broad lawn, an easily-surveilled No Man’s Land that prevented fraternizing. The boys and girls could see each other from across the yard but never intermingled except on special, supervised occasions.

She had seen many Initiates over the years but the Ivory Vixen stood out the way Bobbi herself must have: a wildly curvaceous body that the modest robes of a trainee couldn’t hide. Fur not unlike her own but more yellowish to Bobbi’s grey and white. Striking, ginger hair stood out in a crowd and piercing, green eyes had caught hers repeatedly from afar. They were the only two, female foxes in the whole Abbey with pale fur instead of red, something said to be more common far north.

Their similarities made her wonder if all of their kind developed to such extremes. The only other light-colored fox among the Acolytes was a male named Domantas, who she’d seen from the locker rooms was endowed more like a horse than any other vulpine or canine, giving credence to the idea it was their entire species that matured this way.

The Fathers of the Brotherhood preached that the penis had a mind of their own, and that mind was a powerful persuader. It was the focus of all masculine sin. The bigger fethiye escort it was, the louder it would tempt them, one of them had added to her, personally. If that were true, Bobbi’s was a devil. Nothing would tempt them from the path of righteousness than the desires of their penises and Bobbi had seen few others near the size of hers. Only the horses and the fox, Domantas.

She was fresh from training, still in her full suit of plate armor, the sweat cooling beneath metal, padding and fur. Only her helmet and codpiece were removed, the former carried back under her arm and the latter desperately unbuckled the moment she was in private.

It was a test of her chastity. Her faith in their God, Ferridor the Builder. Total mastery of the self was foundational to the strength of a Holy Paladin. Resisting temptation only made her stronger.

Bobbi closed her eyes and stilled her breath, focusing on the cool air entering her lungs through her nose and the hot breath exiting out her mouth. It was torture but she was trained to resist torture. With her breathing under control she stood up and began to methodically remove her armor.

It was best done with a squire but students didn’t have squires and the Abbey’s signature design was built to be adorned and removed alone, though it took some time. She removed each plate and wiped it clean, then set them on the display shelf across from her bed. A mirror helped with the hard-to-reach straps and was required to make sure every acolyte was presentable to Godly standards every morning, but she kept hers angled toward the door, to only use when necessary.

The breastplate was the last hard piece to come off, before hanging the padded undershirt and pants. She stripped down the rest of the way and hung her undergarments to air dry, breathing deeply the entire time. She still was in control.

Nude, she waved her hand over two buckets of water, one soapy and one not, warming them both with a minor spell. Fetching a sponge then, she cleaned herself, slow and carefully. Her face and hair. Her neck and shoulders. Her breasts and the void between them. Her penis, scrotum and the void behind it. Under her tail and the crack of her rump. As long as she went slow enough, she was grooming, not indulging in temptation. While thorough, she lingered no more than necessary to be properly clean.

Afterward, she dried with a towel and fetched a nightshirt from her small dresser, one she’d custom cut and sewn from a bedsheet to fit her. She pulled it over her head and down to her erection, which hadn’t subsided at all, defying her.

Bobbi wondered what life would be like with the Ivory Vixen. If they might ever be assigned on the same mission. What her personality was like. How she sounded when she spoke. There were rumors of Paladins of other orders that were allowed to get married. Children were not in the plan for Bobbi but if she had them with her, they would be magnificent and beautiful.

The vixen acolyte laid down on her bed, on her back, reciting prayers in her head until the weight of her chest shortened her breath enough to roll onto her side. Eventually, she fell asleep.

Chapter 2

“Eyes up, Dax!” She pulled her gloved punch, before it landed on the inattentive hare.

“Owww! Bobbi!”

“Eyes UP!”

“I wasn’t staring at your…”

Bobbi snapped her extended fist back under her muzzle, elbows clamped around her breasts to secure them. “I know, Dax. You were staring at Renley again. I don’t get what you see in him.”

“He’s gorgeous.”

“He’s a snake.”

“He’s a skunk.”

Her friend, Dax the hare, was a foot shorter than Bobbi and much slighter in stature. He was fast, when he could focus but she had the advantage of reach and strength.

He swung and she stepped back, clear of his fist. Sparring her probably wasn’t the best practice for him either, with his obvious fear of punching the breasts that dominated her chest.

“You know what I mean.”

“BOBBI! DAX!” The quartermaster barked from a short tower he used to supervise the training yard. “LESS TALKING! MORE FIGHTING!”

They exchanged a few punches silently, blocking and dodging. Dax looked back to the quartermaster, who’d turned his attention elsewhere, and Bobbi resisted the cheap shot but tapped his shoulder to make sure he knew she could have. He ignored it.

“You know he’s only mean to you because he’s jealous of you. Either that or he likes you.”

“No, he’s mean.” She threw a jab and he juked. “Not just to me. To everyone. No excuses. What about Sylas? Strong, silent type?”

“He’s a lion. Those teeth scare me.” He swung back and she twisted under it, despite her superior height.

“C’mon Dax. It’s not like I’m a small target. And you shouldn’t be thinking about any of them like that.”

The rust-colored rabbit grinned and punched again, clipping her chest. “The way you think about the Ivory Vixen?”

“Ow! Yes, exactly like that.” She countered and he ducked, then she caught alanya escort him low, square on the muzzle. “It’s not in the cards for any of us.”

“You saw her yesterday, right?”

“Of course I did.”

“Watching you?”

Bobbi paused. “I didn’t know she was watching me…”

Dax took advantage and jabbed, bopping her muzzle. “Rabbit punch!”

“OWWWW!”

“You seriously didn’t notice? You’re like twins. The only female foxes with light fur. The only two in this whole place with gigantic boobs? Yes, she was looking at you.”

Bobbi swung a hook and Dax feigned, then he jabbed and she sidestepped. A jab and a cross caught the hare in his shiny, black nose.

“I know you like her, but she’s bad news. Rumor is she came for filth and is bottom of the class. She might even flunk out of school.”

“They’re just jealous of her.”

“Speaking of other foxes, did you hear about Domantas?”

“He’s the only person who’s nice to me here. What about him?”

“He’s in the stockades.”

“What did he do!?”

“Not sure. Apparently he lied about his birthright on the application to the Academy. He said he was part of the Royal Family in some faraway Kingdom but they replied after a year saying they didnt know a thing about him.”

“He never said anything about being royalty. But aren’t all of your parents rich? Does it matter?”

Dax sighed and threw an easily-dodged punch. Bobbi slipped it across her back.

“Not if you’re adopted by the Order, like you. But if you say you’re from a family…”

“Who cares? The program determines who is good enough. If the only lie Domantas told was to the admission board, he shouldn’t be in the stockades. This place is too exclusive anywOOOOOOWWW!”

A fist from outside caught her in the breast, harder than anyone should be swinging. Dax saw the look on her face and raised his gloves in innocence.

“Sorry, ROBERT FERRISON.” It was Renley the skunk, withdrawing his hand back into a ready stance. He’d gotten close while she was lost in the sparring and several of his larger, duller friends were gathered behind him. “It’s confusing to try to learn to fight real men with those big tits jiggling around.”

Bobbi gritted her teeth, hiding the wince of discomfort and bubbling of rage from Renley’s insults as she towered over the handsome, smug prick. She wasn’t especially tall among the boys of the student body, but he was short, barely taller than Dax.

“They’re just so freakish and in the way! You sure you don’t want to join the Priestesses? You’d fit right in with the other bimbo. Better yet, the two of you could drop out and go to Whore School instead. Maybe a dairy?”

The boys gathered behind him laughed and hawed. Renley was a prick but a charismatic one, at least for the kind of dull, student body destined for Paladinhood. Everyone seemed to love him for some reason, even Dax. He wouldn’t get to her. She was in control of her emotions, and was used to this.

The skunk had led her torment even before her unexpected development. She was a toddler when the Abbey had rescued her from parents she couldn’t remember but was assured by her teachers, had been evil and cruel.

She entered the Paladin program around the same age as the rest of them but not from the same path. Their families had money and power to jockey their sons, often second or third-born, into the prestige of Paladinhood. With Bobbi, known as Robert back then, she was a ward of the Abbey they didn’t know what else to do with. Renley and his lot had unfortunately learned this after a young Robert had never considered the need to keep it a secret.

Years later, when they all began to hit puberty, Bobbi was both too good of a student and too far along to expel, despite some of the Master Paladins’ best efforts. “Unprecedented” they described her transformation as and while it challenged the order’s rules, it took some thorough analysis to confirm it was natural and not magical or demonic in nature.

Technically, they concluded, she was still a male of the species and her advanced Paladin spellcasting suggested she was favored by Ferridor. After drawn-out arguments that laid bare what some of the administrator’s thought of her, she would remain in the program.

Renley only made things worse for her after that. He took every opportunity to remind her she was an abomination of nature and no matter what she looked like and called herself now, she was born a boy.

“You know my name. You act like you forget, as if forgetting makes you witty but it just makes you seem stupid.”

A whistle blew. The disruption hadn’t been missed by the quartermaster. They weren’t sparring any more and any further blows would be a fight.

“At least I’m not a freak. With hair, tits and hips, like a BITCH.”

She readied in a defensive stance. “You treat people like that and call yourself a man of Faith? You embarrass yourself and the rest of us.”

The whistle blew again, longer and louder.

“FERRIDOTTIR! To manavgat escort the tower. NOW!”

The quartermaster had seen the crowd, forming around the two but as usual, he only called only her. She was used to it. The orphan acolyte didn’t have powerful, wealthy parents who funded the Abbey like Renley and the rest of them did.

The quartermaster knew she wouldn’t take the bait from him or his toadies but it was enough to see she was thinking it. Popular or not, she knew she could have shattered Renley’s muzzle with her forehead before any of them could react. All of the Paladin acolytes could cast healing spells on one another by now but it might’ve made him reconsider his torment, for him to experience that particular pain first. Now she was being watched.

She glared at Renley for a long moment then rolled her eyes away and withdrew to the quartermaster’s tower.

“You’re a sad excuse for a man, Robert.” The skunk averted his eyes from the quartermaster as he spoke.

“You’re a sad excuse for a Paladin, Renley.”

Chapter 3

It was the middle of the night when something stirred Bobbi from her sleep. Uncommon noise. Muffled. Sneaking. There was movement in the corridors of the Abbey. She was tense and alert but waited, listening for more. There was nothing. It was gone. A bad dream?

A paladin was nothing without vigilance and she knew better than to assume the best of suspicions, so she slipped out of bed and listened at the door. Silence. She pulled the handle but the door didn’t move. It shouldn’t. The doors were locked nightly from the hallway but the sentries who patrolled didn’t try to be quiet like whoever had passed before did.

Stepping back and pausing, she perked her ears. Something outside. She turned and went to the window, overlooking a courtyard that should be empty at night. It was not. It had rained and the gloss of wetness made the movement of everything easier to see and her vulpine eyes were sharper than most.

Along the hedges that broke up the field between the two buildings of the seminary wing, figures shifted in the darkness. People in black fatigues moved away from the Abbey. Invaders? But why would they be moving away?

She tensed for a moment until she recognized one, Henry, a white-furred mink. Another, Trenton, a cat and a recently ordained Paladin who now guarded the armory. These were other Acolytes and a few recent graduates, by the tens, moving under the cover of the cloudy sky and new moon.

Some kind of special training? Of everyone but her?

Across the yard, she saw more of them. Feminine silhouettes filing out of the Priestess Academy, disappearing against the hedges and heading in the same direction. None of them were allowed to be out at night, nor were they allowed to be fraternizing! But there were so many of them, coming out of both buildings, all teenage in stature.

A group of female Initiates interrupted the single file flow, shouldering open the double doors. There were six girls carrying a seventh, bound, gagged and resisting. Impossible curves jostled violently as she squirmed. The Ivory Vixen! The others seemed to struggle with her size and she was fighting as they carried her into the darkness.

Bobbi clenched her jaw and followed the lines to the Abbey’s south wall, where two ladders had been erected. Students were starting to climb over and out of the campus, toward the thick forest beyond.

There was no justification for this. Paladins and Priestesses were not trained to skulk around in the shadows. None of them were armed or armored and they had obvious, malicious intent for the Ivory Vixen.

She turned away from the window and rushed to her armor. If Trenton was out with the others, the armory would be unguarded and she could fetch her weapon as well. Dressing herself in a hurry was something she’d practiced to rote in drills and she was suited up before the last of them had poured over the ladders.

She gave the door a forceful shove then and that should have been enough. The “locks” were supposed to just be sticks, not enough to actually trap them inside, in case there was a fire. They were for the administrators to know if anyone left in the night.

Bobbi’s door was braced with something far more substantial. She gritted her teeth and kicked the door with a heavy boot, again and again until the door itself started to come apart. She finally broke it enough to reveal a discreet, metal rod had been placed behind her stick, reinforcing the lock without being obvious to any sentries passing by.. She reached through the splinters and ripped it away, then kicked open the door to stagger out into the empty hall.

Only silence greeted her. Every other door was closed, locks in place.

She ran to Dax’s room, several dorms down but it was as silent as the rest. A quiet knock received no reply so she pulled the stick out of the slot and opened his dorm. His bed was empty and unmade, his armor still in place. She checked the next dorm, then the next. All empty.

Through the halls of the Abbey, she ran straight to the armory in the dim, torchlight of the hall. The whole thing was unguarded and abandoned, not even by the usual sentries that patrolled the halls. She leapt over the counter and down the row of swords until she found hers: a two-handed greatsword with an extra long grip, to make handling it around her chest easier.

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The library was nearly empty on a Friday night, which was perfect. I needed peace and quite. The fewer people around, the less intrusive thoughts I would have to push away. Unfortunately, it closed at 9:00, and I was nearly certain Mom wouldn’t be home yet.

I went to the late show at the movie theater then went home. Mom’s car wasn’t in the garage, and the only window lit up was the spare bedroom. Gerry must have moved his shit out of Mom’s room. He was staying, and I assumed enjoying his newly demoted status. Did I really make him a cuck in just a few days? This had to be something he’d wanted for a long time, right?

I quietly navigated the dark house, moving to my bedroom and settled into bed. I could feel the doubt and self loathing rising inside me. What the fuck did I do? It wasn’t so bad right? Gerry liked it. Didn’t he? I quickly picked up his train of thought to see how he was handling the change.

He was thinking about Mom getting fucked by another man. He was picturing himself in the room with her, watching it happen. He was dressed in a maid outfit wearing lingerie and heels. In his fantasy he was locked in a chastity cage and had a sex toy wedged into his ass. He was masturbating to this fantasy.

Fuck, the sexual tension he was reveling in washed over me. It felt so gross, but it also sort of felt familiar and I hated myself a little bit as I acknowledged that. I needed a distraction. I needed to think of something besides this asylum I had created. I needed to think about someone I wasn’t related to.

I’d dated both men and women. I preferred sex with men, but I preferred to be in a relationship with women. When I dated someone I tried to limit or avoid reading their thoughts. It took the joy and spontaneity out of the relationship and just sort of ruined things.

But I never felt really safe with men. They always had such dark sexual thoughts. None of them really seemed to follow through with those thoughts, but I guess it scared me, so I was always peeping in on them to make sure they weren’t serial killers and inevitably it took all the romance out of our life.

So I dated women, and if I wasn’t in a relationship with a woman, I occasionally fucked men. But I never let it go much farther than a one or two night stand. I wondered if my fear of commitment with men originated back to the way it felt when I learned that Gerry had started to sexualize me.

He had been a decent (maybe even good) parent up to that point and the change in how he perceived me had felt like a huge betrayal. I don’t know if that’s where my distrust of men came from, but I’d wondered about it more than once. Is that why I was so eager to fuck his life up? Not just the gross thoughts, but the bigger picture of how if felt when someone who I should’ve been able to trust betrayed me in that way. Fuck Gerry.

The girl I’d been crushing on, and masturbating to, was named Joy. She had been a freshman last year as well and I’d met her through friends. I liked her right away, but I didn’t get the impression she was into girls. Once when we out with friends and we had both been drinking, she’d kissed me. Not like a drunk friend though, she kissed me like she wanted to fuck me.

Nothing more happened that night, or since for that matter. There was a brief period where it felt like she was avoiding me, but then everything was sort of back to normal. The way it was before she kissed me. She never made another move after that one night. I didn’t know if she regretted kissing me, or if she was waiting for me to make a move.

I really, really wanted to bakırköy escort read her thoughts and know what was in her head. But I liked her. I really liked her, and I know from previous experience that getting in her head would have destroyed any chance of me being happy with her. So I spent as much time with her as I could, and I tried to give her all the hints I could without making her feel uncomfortable, and I waited.

I waited right up to the end of the semester and now I’m here alone, fucking up my parent’s marriage and touching myself thinking about her, and what I could have done differently. So I sat on my bed, feeling aroused because I’d been in Gerry’s head and I thought about Joy.

I thought about kissing her and I rubbed my clit, slipping my fingers between my labia to wet them. The slick natural lubrication reduced the friction and increased the sensations of pleasure I felt as my mind role-played yet another scenario where I’d been brave enough to tell Joy how I felt and she’d taken me home and how it was her hand rubbing me instead of my own.

I should call her I thought. We were friends after all, and I hadn’t talked to her for almost a week. It would be weird if I didn’t call her, right? Should I call her now, laying naked on my bed while I fingered myself? Would that be weird? Would she be able to tell I was masturbating?

At that moment, I was more afraid of the mess I had created with my parents than I was of confessing my feelings to her. I was worried more about what the next morning would bring than I was about making a fool of myself in front of Joy. I texted her and waited for a reply, but none came.

Fuck, I needed release. I thought about her lips on mine, the feel of her body pressed against me as she leaned in. My fingers were putting in work now. I moved them in circles around my clit, dipping them into my moist hole every few strokes.

As I heated up and started to feel my orgasm building, I started rubbing my two fingered up and down my slit with my poor clit smashed between them. Each stroke pushed my finger tips into my wetness and dragged my nectar out until my pussy and asshole were soaked.

Buy the time I reached climax, I was abusing my clit without remorse. I rubbed and pinched and stroked myself until the glorious moment when the wave crested and washed over me. Slutty moans escaped my mouth as I pictured Joy kneeling between my legs licking and rubbing me. God it felt so good.

I laid in bed as the spent passion ebbed away and wondered if I would ever have the courage to talk to Joy about my feelings, or if I would just take the same short cut I had with my Mom and Gerry and use my gift to protect my ego.

My wetness grew cold in the night air and I felt vulnerable laying naked and spent on my bed. I kicked my legs under the covers and worried I wouldn’t be able to sleep. But the next thing I new daylight rimmed the edges of the blinds in my bedroom window and I could hear my Mom’s car pulling into the garage. It was morning and she was just getting home.

I linked up to her stream and immediately felt an overload of dopamine. She was high on life. Neil must have been a great lover, because there was little doubt Mom was enjoying the after effects of an orgasm. Had he just fucked her before she returned home this morning? Had they been up all night making love?

I didn’t really want to know. I dropped out of her head as she came through the door and looked for Gerry’s frequency. He was awake, but something was off. His thoughts were indirect and scattered, bahçelievler escort He was doing something that required little concentration so his mind was wandering. He was also running hot. Not quite aroused, but a bit worked up.

I heard Mom walk down the hallway and go into her room, closing the door. I stayed tuned into Gerry to figure out what he was doing. Slowly as his mind wandered around it became clear. He had locked himself in a chastity cage. He was wearing some of Mom’s panties and an apron and he was on his knees cleaning the toilet in the hallway bathroom. Mom would have walked right past him, but he must have had the door shut.

He had to have heard her, he must have known she’d just got home. When a woman goes out on a date at night and doesn’t come home til morning, it almost always means she got lucky. Gerry had to know, he had to be aware that he’d been made a cuckold and his response was to wear panties and clean the toilet.

He was making himself into a sissy. Wearing a cage and women’s lingerie, wearing an apron and cleaning the toilet. He was getting off on the way Mom was treating him. What a fucking pervert. Did I do this? I don’t remember trying to make him a sissy. I mean I might have put ideas into his head about being a domestic servant to Mom, and maybe I did hint at him wearing a chastity cage. Did I convince him he wanted to be a sissy?

This couldn’t be my fault. This was so much further down the rabbit hole than I’d gone with either of them. This had to be his own doing, right? He wanted this all on his own, right? I didn’t do this, did I? Maybe I did. Or, maybe I was just the catalyst that pushed him off a ledge he was already standing on. Did it matter?

I couldn’t help but feeling like an asshole for the way I’d meddled, but didn’t he deserve this? The man who was supposed to be a father but chose to be a creep, wasn’t this a fair result for such a loser? If so, why did I feel guilty?

I heard Mom open her bedroom door and walk down the hall to the spare room. She knocked but there was no answer. Then I heard Gerry open the bathroom door and step into the hallway. She must have seen him because I heard her gasp at the sight of him.

“What the… Get in the bedroom before Kate sees you. We need to talk.” She was trying to be quiet but was also freaked out so the words came out as a hiss of anger. I logged into her stream as she closed her bedroom door, Gerry had already entered her bedroom in front of her.

“What the hell is all this? You’re practically naked, and you’re wearing my underwear. What if Kate saw you? She doesn’t deserve to see that.”

“I was being careful. She’s still asleep. I was listening for her, I wouldn’t let her see me like this.”

“Why are you dressed like that? What have you done to your dick?”

“You don’t like it? I was hoping you would like it. I was… I don’t know. I was trying to figure out what my place is now. You said I didn’t have to leave but you were going to see other people. I thought that meant… I hoped that meant I could still play a role here, with you. I wanted… I don’t know. I guess the idea turned me on and I hoped it turned you on too.”

Mom was all over the place emotionally. She was disgusted, concerned, and a little bit happy to see the power shift in her marriage. I couldn’t exactly hear Gerry’s words I could only hear what Mom assumed he was saying so I didn’t know exactly what was going through his head at the time, I just knew how Mom was interpreting his confessions.

“You want to know what şirinevler escort your place is?” She asked him somewhat maliciously.

“Yes. I mean, if we’re married and you’re sleeping with other men, my role isn’t really well defined. I know you said I could leave and call a lawyer, but I don’t want that. I was hoping there was room for me. I thought if I changed and was helpful…”

I felt something come over Mom at the moment. It was like she remembered all the barbed comments Gerry had ever made. Something inside her sort of broke as she felt the entire weight of his abuse and manipulation. She felt jubilant and self righteous. She took off her dress and slipped her panties to her feet.

“You want to know where your place is now? Get on your knees and lick my sore, well fucked pussy. That’s your place now. Get on your knees and get a mouthful of whatever he left in there and then try and tell me how much I owe you. Tell me how much better my life is because I married you. Let’s see how clearly you can articulate your value to me while you gag on a real man’s load.”

The emotional bleed from her was exhilarating in that moment. It was like winning the lottery and a beauty pageant all at the same time. It was like having all your dreams come true.

Gerry got on his knees and shuffled toward Mom’s pussy. She backed up a step and sat on the edge of the bed, spreading her legs. She felt so ready for this moment. When his tongue touched her lips lightning shot through her body and mine and I had to drop away. I couldn’t take it anymore. She was living her best life and I couldn’t take the power of her emotional high any longer.

Doubt faded from my mind. I didn’t give a single fuck about Gerry or his sad little life. That moment was so powerful I finally understood just how small and useless she’d been made to feel by him. The rush of power she got from finally breaking his spell was like nothing I’d ever felt before.

Knowing Gerry was eagerly humiliating himself in front of Mom made me laugh to myself. He was so quick to give up all the power and influence he’d clawed away from her over the past few years. He really was a pathetic little man.

I was tempted to jump on his signal and see just how it felt for him to struggle with his arousal with his cock locked in that stupid cage. Or to feel him come to terms with his pathetic nature as he let someone else’s slime slide down his throat. But I didn’t. I was done with him. I didn’t want to know anything else about that sad little man.

I was about to get out of bed and climb into the shower when I heard my phone chirp. It was a text from Joy.

“I fell asleep early and I just got your message. Hope your having fun at home. Hit me up when you have a minute, I miss our chats.”

She missed me.

I didn’t need to read anyone’s mind to know how I felt about her, and I didn’t need to be afraid to tell her how I felt. Mom let Gerry run her down because she was afraid of what it would mean to live without him. If she hadn’t met someone worth spending time with, she might still be stuck under his thumb. I didn’t want that for myself.

I didn’t want my fear to keep me from finding happiness. If I opened up to Joy and she didn’t feel the same way at least I would know and I could move on. I could find someone who did want to be with me.

I didn’t need to spend so much time living in other’s heads just to feel safe or secure or confident. The world was full of people who just put themselves out there and took life as it came.

Maybe they weren’t all happy, but I knew now that hiding from myself wouldn’t ever bring the kind of happiness I wanted. I needed to take those risks without knowing how it was going to work out.

I was about to reply to Joy’s text when I stopped and hit the call button instead.

“Hi. I hope it’s okay that I called. I missed the sound of your voice.”

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This story is completely a work of fiction and fantasy.

I remember Christmastime, I was alone maybe five left alone with the Christmas tree and the TV on. The TV for once wasn’t what was captivating, the magical ornaments that included figurines of angels and elves, and the glitter on the Christmas tree was.

But something caught my eye, it was a production of the Nutcracker. It started with scenes of snow covered streets decorated for Christmas and faded into the orchestra hall and on to the stage. I was immediately captivated by the magical Christmas scene, and the beautiful costumes and sets of the production. Even at that age, the tights of the women and men captivated me. I was so immersed that looking back at that memory I almost feel like I became one with production and that the stage ceased to be stage and I was in the fairy-fantasy land of the Nutcracker ballet.

The feeling of that memory never left me and later in life I developed a love of ballet, ballet music, costumes and the tights they wore. Something about that material the way it concealed and revealed the legs fascinated me. To me ballet represented a magical world I could escape into even as an adult.

Years, later, when I was 28, one night I was at a beautiful ballet, a production of Sleeping Beauty and suddenly that memory of being drawn into a living live version of the ballet came up again. It was only for a fleeting moment but for a few seconds I felt like I was in the production as a cast member, but the stage had become a real life fantasy land.

I left the ballet in daze, wondering about this strange feeling. Was it real? Or my mind playing tricks? A lucid dream? I became obsessed with trying to slip back into this world but nothing I could do seemed to trigger it.

But one day around Christmas, I was sitting in a room with a tree, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw a production of the nutcracker on the bayrampaşa escort screen, I began to be pulled into it like a trance I don’t know how long I stared but I slowly became more and more in a trance like state and my eyes slowly shut. I don’t know how long they were shut- it felt like a few seconds or a few years- but when I opened them I was in a long corridor of what looked like any modern office building, but at the end of the hall, I saw two women in dark leotards and pink tights swiftly walk by and enter a room at the end of the hall.

Intrigued and curious to know where I was, I followed them to the end of the hall. The room had a door with a window on it and from there I could see it was a ballet studio and the two women had joined a ballet class.

All of the women were gorgeous ranging in age from what looked like 18 to late forties but even the ones in their late forties had beautiful ballet bodies, seemed to retain their youthful features and the only indication of age was streaks of grey and gentle signs of maturity on the face.

I didn’t want to be caught ‘staring’ but I was so captivated and intrigued about where I was that I watched class for a few minutes — no one seemed to notice or care.

I had never seen so many beautiful bodies at once.I loved how the leotards and tights clung to their bodies and emphasized their forms. They all had slight variations of the same color leotard some with high cut legs, some with straps, others with full traditional scoop tops. Some had their leos hiked up so their glutes were split by them almost like a thong, on others the fabric covered the full bottom and there was every variation in between. The material was thinner and more delicate than ‘workout wear’ or ‘yoga pants’.

As I said, all the women were beautiful but my eyes fixed on one brunette with wavy bouncy hair going to her shoulders, wide çapa escort light brown, almost amber eyes and full sensual lips. She was slender but curvy and had taut legs slightly larger than normal thighs so many professional dancers have and a beautiful full bottom. She was wearing a black leotard with a distinctive cross strap on the back, pink tights and pink slippers. The tights and leotards subtly separated her glutes and emphasized her beautiful butt, when she came closer to the door during floor exercises, I could see she was glistening with sweat.

Time flew by as they went through their plies, floor work and barre exercises, and I had almost forgotten that I had no idea where I was. I saw the class do its closing appreciation bows to the teacher and piano player and they all started to exit the room.

I wanted to enter the room and ask where I was but the door was locked and even banging on it no one seemed to notice me. I then turned to go down the hall again but now there was a partition in the hallway blocking me. I started to get worried and wonder if I was hallucinating or in a dream… after a few minutes I turned around and noticed the studio door was open.

I walked into the studio. It was empty but at the end of the hall the door where everyone left was open. I turned around and tried the handle of the door I entered in but it was locked. It was so mysterious and strange that I felt curiosity more than panic. Whoever or whatever was causing this, obviously wanted me to go in that door. I didn’t figure it was a trap because if someone wanted to kill me they would have done it by now.

I walked towards the doorway and entered. I looked around — it looked like a dressing room for a dance studio, with mirrors and lights but no one was there. But on one of the counters by the mirror, was the leotard tights and shoes of the brunette. I immediately knew it was fındıkzade escort hers by the distinct straps.

However lost and confused I was, my mind immediately was filled with visions of her beautiful body in that leotard, and I walked closer. I began to get aroused and excited thinking about how she looked in it and imagined her slipping into it. I looked around again. I was alone. I put my hand on her leotard and immediately felt a rush of pleasure through my body. It was soft as I ran my hand over it and I could feel the moisture of her sweat. I couldn’t resist, I slowly picked up her tights and leotard and shoes and caressed my cheek against them, smelling her scent on the moist crotch area of the leotard and tights both the front and back had an erotic, sensuous aroma.

I am not a ‘foot’ guy but even the scent of her sweaty ballet shoes turned me on as I sniffed them. I put them down and again inhaled the smell of her sweaty tights like a fine perfume.

“Hello”, a voice said.

Startled, I dropped the tights and turned around. There was the brunette I had eyed in class, in an all black stretch footed catsuit. I was terrified, embarrassed and frightened all at once.

“Don’t worry”, she said, coming closer and picking up her tights. “Its ok”, and she again waved them under my nose and stroked my cheek with them and gently smiled, “You’re in Ballet Land”.

“Ballet Land”, I said, now curious and confused.

“Yes”, she said smiling, “Ballet Land, and I am your guide and Fairy, but more about that later; First about the tights”, she again picked them up. “It’s ok for you to touch them and smell them, don’t be embarrassed, its perfectly natural and I like that you do it”, she said.

Her voice was so sincere and comforting, although I was still confused, I slowly became more and more at ease.

“In fact if you didn’t do it, you would have been transported back into the everyday world you were wishing to escape from”, she said.

“Where am I?” I again asked.

A gentle smile again came to her face, and she replied slowly, patiently and sweetly “Like I told you you’re in Ballet Land”. She extended her hand “Come with me and I’ll explain everything to you….”.

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——Jessica——

I don’t remember falling asleep. The whole night after Adam left the room was a blur of cocks, cum, and strange men. There weren’t many that were the same size as Adam, and I was kind of thankful that I decided to take him first. It made everything that came after easier. Most cocks were thinner, or shorter, and easier to take. Hell, I didn’t even have to take one of them. I took some amount of pride and pleasure in that. There was one guy last night who found me so sexy he shot on the bed before I even touched him. A waste of a star, but still appreciated.

I was shaken awake by a soft, soothing voice, and a kind touch.

“Morning sleepyhead. You did so good, Jessie!” Kim said, sitting next to me on the bed in the now brightly lit room, and softly stroking my hair. I felt strands of hair snap from my skin, stuck to me with dried sweat or some other fluid.

“Are you ready for morning prayers?” Kim said softly, gesturing towards the man in the doorway. As I crawled out of my deep, exhausted, sleep, I felt a powerful soreness between my legs and my hand tenderly ran down to my vagina.

“I’m so sore, I don’t know if I can…’ I said, blinking the sleep from my eyes.

“Oh you won’t need that Jessie, we pray on our knees remember?” She said, trailing one finger across my bottom lip.

I nodded, “Yes Ma’am”.

“Alright then, come here sweetheart.” Kim said, pulling me from the bed and helping me to my knees beside it.

“I want you behind her. Play with her tits.” The man said, moving from the doorway and dropping his pants to the ground.

“Normally I don’t play with girls,” Kim said in my ear, “but what do we say when men command something from us, Jessie?” Kim asked, sitting on the bed behind me so my back and neck rested between her legs.

“Yes Sir.” I said, automatically. Kim started stroking my hair from behind, pulling it out of my face and holding it behind me as the man lined his cock up with my mouth.

“Good girl.” Kim said, leaning over me and placing a hand on my breast, flicking my sore nipples as he entered me.

It was easier now. This man wasn’t as large as Adam, but he was still on the bigger end. I had taken so many different cocks in my mouth last night, and over time I grew more and more comfortable with it. Where at first I could barely take Adam’s head in, I eventually became able to take the entirety of an average sized one easily. I thought maybe it was just the effects of the pill yesterday, but sucking on this one in the light of day I realized something.

I fucking love sucking dick.

I forced my head all the way down on it, relaxing my throat as I went and looking up at the large man in front of me. Gagging, squelching sounds leaking from my mouth as I threw my head back and forth on it.

“Holy fuuuuuuck Kim, I see why she got so many stars” He said as his body shuddered with pleasure.

Kim giggled behind me as she squeezed my tits together, “She’s my top pick for protege this year, I think. What do you think about that, sweetie?”

Kim leaned backwards and pulled me off his cock.

“I have a man to service first, Ma’am.” I said, my hand stroking his cock.

Kim laughed behind me, “See! She’s perfect! Better than Sarah, don’t you think, Sir?” and she slammed my head forward back onto his cock and violently tossed me back and forth, forcing my head down on his shaft.

The man groaned, “I’ll need to try her pussy when she feels better, but so far this one is perfect.”

“Serving men is serving God. We can speak about your future later, sweetie. Finish your prayer.” Kim said, and I followed instructions.

A few minutes later this man exploded down my throat. I was used to the taste now and swallowed it all down. I continued sucking his tender cock as he began to go soft and pulled away from me.

“How else may I serve you, Sir?” I asked as he pulled away on legs made of jelly.

He laughed through heavy breaths, “That will be all Jessica.”

He leaned forward over me and brought his head down to Kims, his flaccid cock dangling in front of me, and I fought the urge to take it in my mouth.

They kissed above me.

“See you later tonight, baby?” He asked.

“Yes Sir, my classes are over at 4, I’ll have dinner ready by 6. I love you!” Kim said, cheerfully.

“I love you too baby. Good luck with this one.” He said, separating from her and putting his pants back on before exiting the room. You’d think I couldn’t be in any more shock than I already was with the events of the last few days, but this was WILD.

“Is he your boyfriend, Ma’am?” I asked in disbelief.

“Fiance!” She chirped back, “Isn’t he amazing?”

“You let him be with other girls?” I asked, dumbfounded by the idea.

“Oh my gosh, Jessie, I don’t LET him do anything.” Kim started, swinging her legs from around me and standing back up, “I serve my man, like we are supposed to. If that means finding girls for him to fuck, then I’ll find him all the girls in the world.”

“Wow” I said, truly topkapi escort in awe. To dedicate yourself completely to your man’s desires. And to do it with so much cheerful enthusiasm, no matter the request. Kim was inspiring.

“Do you still serve other men, Ma’am?” I asked, curious.

“Oh no, not anymore. Travis knows what I used to do with Kappa Phi of course, but he’s my fiance now, I’m for him and him alone. Now I just train the new girls.” She replied.

“That’s amazing Kim. You’re so… dedicated.” I said. It was hard to believe. As much as I loved James, I don’t know if I could handle him being with another woman. Even more reason to keep him away from Kappa Phi.

Oh my god, James. I hadn’t thought about him all night. I was so lost in the blur of sex and whatever drug they had given me, my mind stayed in the present moment for hours and hours of random men visiting me. The ‘me’ that came into this building yesterday felt so far away from the ‘me’ that was here now.

But I felt such a love, such a guilt, in my heart for James. He had no clue what happened. He had no clue what a metamorphosis I had gone through in one evening. How on Earth am I supposed to act ‘normal’ when I don’t even know what that is anymore. I curled my knees up into my body on the floor, and Kim noticed the sudden change.

“You okay, Jess? I’m sure you’ll be just as dedicated to your boyfriend, you’re doing great.” She said, rubbing my back.

I fought back tears as I tried to summon the words to express what I was feeling, “How do I… Keep this secret from him? I don’t want James to see me as less than. We were both staying pure.”

“Oh Jess. You’re still pure in his eyes. And you’ll be so much more capable of serving him when the time comes for you two. It will mean some lying, and some level of guilt. But once you see how your experience makes him feel, you’ll know it’s worth it.” She said, trying to comfort me.

“Yeah” I said, brushing some tears from my eyes, “Just have to live with it for awhile I suppose.”

“That’s right Jessica. Us women have to make many sacrifices for our men. But it’s worth it in the end. Just treat him how you normally would and it will all work out.” She said, handing me a bag with my clothes in it, “Now, about being my protege… Do you know what that means?”

I shook my head as I started to put my clothes back on.

“Seems like your mom didn’t tell you anything about Kappa Phi, huh? Okay, well… each of the senior girls gets to take a protege. A girl to take under our wings and help grow. I want you to be mine. Travis will have to have sex with you first, as his word is final. He already had Sarah, who’s definitely your top competition, but I think you’ll do even better than she did.” Kim explained as I got the rest of my clothes put back on.

I nodded my head, “I’ll do my best, Ma’am.”

“I know you will.” Kim replied, “Travis likes to be rough though, so that might be new to you, depending on how last night went. But he also very much enjoys a woman who takes charge. You should give him both of those things, when you’re less sore. If he likes you, then you’ll be my protege, okay?”

“I understand.” I said, “What does being a protege entail?”

“wellllll” She began, “It comes with certain responsibilities. You must do what I say, no matter what, at any time. The boys on campus – mostly – know not to tell you to drop to your knees in public or anything, and you certainly shouldn’t feel pressured to service a man outside of the Kappa Phi house, a party we’re at in an official capacity, or when on call.”

“On call?” I asked

“Oh yes, we will have special weeks where the girls are on call. We give out a phone number and people can text it and we’ll send a girl over to service them. Two stars when it’s your turn in the rotation, five if you’re specifically requested.” She explained, “But anyway, what I’m trying to say is you must obey me at all times, even in public. At ALL times. Also protege’s will sometimes compete in different competitions but that won’t be for a little while.”

“I understand.” I said, nodding my head and trying to process the new information, “But… why me Ma’am? I hadn’t even had sex until last night, I might not be the best pick for you.”

“Come” She said, walking out of the door to the bedroom I had spent the past 10+ hours in and gesturing to the door, “That’s why.”

On the door was a paper with my name on it. Not just that, it had stickers, so many stickers. When I first entered the room, I thought I would feel accomplished if I got the bare minimum. But this? I couldn’t even count.

“How many is that?” I said in disbelief.

“Sixty-four, we counted twice. Same number as Sarah actually. First time we’ve had a tie in years. You win, of course, because your stars were doubled last night. But still, SIXTY-FOUR, for a new girl? And for a virgin? That’s incredible endurance and dedication. Also, how could I pass up Cum-Queen Carla’s daughter?” Kim laughed, “Anyway, I merter escort feel like you understand Kappa Phi better than Sarah.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well… What kind of reward do you think the girl with the most stars gets?” Kim asked, studying my face.

I thought for a moment. Was this a trick question? The answer seemed obvious.

“We already got the reward. Experience, the opportunity to service a man, and to improve.” I said flatly.

Kim reached out and rubbed my cheek softly, “That’s right Jessie. Gosh, I hope Travis enjoys you. Let me know when you feel ready to take him, okay? I need to choose soon.”

“Yes ma’am, I will.” I said.

We parted ways. I walked back to my dorm room, still covered in dried cum and sore from the night before. When I got home I collapsed into the shower. I washed the cum off of me, and cried about the death of the Jessica that I thought I would be. A future version of myself that could never have existed. My mother knew I needed Kappa Phi. She gave me this opportunity to make myself better and more experienced for James, and I had to trust her. Respect your parents – a phrased drilled in me from a young age.

As I got cleaned up, I realized I hadn’t heard from James all day. No texts, no nothing. I’m sure he was up late last night with school-work, but he’d normally be awake by now. I knew I had to bite the bullet at some point. I wanted nothing more than to curl up in his arms, feeling his familiar warmth and smell. I sent him a text.

“Hey baby, can I come by?”

A few minutes went by with no reply, and I decided I’d take the chance to just head over. The nerves about facing him after what had happened were killing me. I knew I needed to just face it, and get it over with. I’d feel better once I was in it. I made sure I was totally clean, smelled good, and put on a cute outfit I know he liked, and I made my way to my boyfriend.

——JAMES——

I woke up a few hours after I had collapsed in my bed, still wearing my costume, and feeling hot. The mask, the outfit and little cape, damp with sweat. I leaned up and sat upright on my bed. I took the mask and costume off in a dreary trance, why did I have all of this on again? I got up, tossing the items into the corner and found some clean clothes to change into.

I walked into the bathroom with my clothes when the reality of the night prior smashed back into me. It’s like my brain was searching for a way to protect me from what I had seen, but failed to completely black out the events I had witnessed.

I felt like I got punched in the stomach, and all the air left me. I leaned over the sink. Images flashed in my mind. Jessica’s big tits swinging, her ass rippling with every thrust from the large man behind her. Her animalistic moans, whines, groans, squeals. My penis swelled as I stood there, assailed by the memories my brain had tried to repress.

She looked amazing last night. Her breasts, even softer and more full-looking than I had imagined, her ass was so much thicker than I had thought it would be, and the way she moved and moaned and handled the situation was so hot. At that moment she wasn’t the sweet, innocent, girlfriend I had always known, she was more like the seasoned sluts I had seen in the few porn videos I had looked up in moments of extreme weakness. Her pure beauty defiled and corrupted.

Had she ever been the girl I imagined?

As I leaned over the sink I found myself stroking my cock. The same cock that had exploded just a few hours prior at nothing more than witnessing the woman I loved get treated like a common whore by someone who might not even know her name. It was so fucked up. My heart was in pieces. Then why was I so fucking TURNED ON.

I stroked faster.

I imagined her riding that same large black man. Her heavy tits bouncing wildly as she slammed her thick ass down on his massive cock.

“Oh my god yes! Fuck me with that big black cock, Sir!” She would say.

The black man would lean in, gripping her tits hard and placing a nipple in his mouth. Sucking, biting, pulling, pinching. She would moan and cry and quake on his cock. She would turn, and see me.

“Oh hey baby! Come here and I’ll suck your cock while he uses me!” She would say, voice sickly sweet and envenomed with love.

I would walk over to her and-

I blew my load in the sink.

“Oh my god, again baby? Too bad.” I heard a phantom Jessica say in my head.

What the fuck was that.

I turned the sink on and let the water wash my mess down the drain.

Why did I just think all of that? It hurt, a dull ache in my heart. Cold and painful. I liked imagining her naked, but why the fuck would it not be imagining her with me? I closed my eyes and tried to imagine her naked in front of me.

There she was, long dirty blonde hair, laying across her chest and covering her nipples. The weighty shape of her breasts visible as she stepped towards me.

“Hey baby, do you like how I look?” She would say.

“Y-Yeah, esenler escort beautiful” I whispered out loud in the bathroom

She reaches down and grabs my hand, “Do you want to touch?”

I look back up at her, speechless and begin to nod.

Two dark hands wrap around her waist and pull her backwards, my hand falls from hers.

“Oops! Too late baby, looks like you’ll have to wait.” She said as a large man pulls her into him. She falls to her knees and turns around, shoving his enormous cock down her throat in one fluid motion.

“That’s right bitch, suck that cock” The man says, thrusting into her mouth violently.

I open my eyes, to find my dick standing erect again, I grabbed it and started stroking.

What is happening to me? A few hours ago I felt like I was going to either vomit or have a heartattack or both. My vision of Jessica was completely violated, shaken, and my thoughts about our future and our love was in shambles.

Now I’m standing in my bathroom, jerking off for the second time in under 5 minutes thinking about her getting fucked by other men? Why was this turning me on now? Why would this turn me on at all!? Was this just another attempt my brain was making to protect itself from the overwhelming pain I had felt when I saw her?

Fuck it, right now, why did it matter?

I turned the shower on and hopped in. I stroked myself to completion over and over. Years and years of pent up sexual pressure needed to be released. I only took a break when the water began to run cold and my fingers got pruney.

Over the next few hours I continued jerking off, locked in my room. It’s like a fever had taken me, my mind was all swirled with hurt, betrayal, jealousy, and arousal. Normally if my mind drew a thought of Jessica naked or doing something sexual I would push it from my brain. In an effort to remain pure. What was the point, now? She had clearly betrayed our purity pact, right? Her and I might as well have sex now. I couldn’t help but still love her despite what I saw. There was a new feeling there, but the old feeling doesn’t die that fast.

I didn’t know how to handle us moving forward. A large part of me said – break up, get out now, you’re not respected. But another part found what I saw so fucking hot. Yet another part thought maybe she only did that because I wouldn’t have sex with her. When things got heated, I would often be the first to push back.

Was this just her acting out on her desires that I refused to fulfill? Was her riding me over my clothes the other day an attempt to have sex that I denied? Did I push her to do what she did?

I needed time to think. To figure out what I should do. Should I even tell her that I saw her? That I know? It was so confusing. I didn’t have to think about any of the real life implications when I was cloaked in fantasy and tugging my dick. How long had I been jerking off now, anyway?

I grabbed my phone to check the time, only to see a missed text from Jess.

“Hey baby, can I come by?” – 30 minutes ago.

Oh shit, how do I respond? I don’t know what I would even say to her right now. I opened the text and thought about what to text back, but I never got the chance.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

My roommate was out of town for the weekend, back with his family, could it be…?

I unlocked my door, letting the smell of countless loads air out and walked to the front door. I opened it up, and there she was.

“Hey baby! Sorry! I texted but I got a little worried when you didn’t reply.” She said, sounding concerned.

I stood there, frozen, looking at her.

She was beautiful. Gorgeous. Absolute perfection. A stark contrast to the cock-hungry whore that had lived in my twisted dark fantasies for the past few hours of masturbation.

It felt impossible to reconcile these two people. The innocent beauty standing in front of me, wearing a modest outfit she knows I love, and seeming genuinely concerned for me. And the cum-stained, roughed up, whore thanking men for fucking her that I saw last night.

I started to question myself. Did I imagine that? Was it just a dream? Why would I have the costume then? Maybe I just bought it and fell asleep and dreamed the whole thing. Could that be possible?

“Can I… come in?” She asked as she studied my clearly confusing expression.

“Yeah, yeah of course, come in.” I stumbled out.

She took a step in, stood on her tip-toes, and planted a kiss on my cheek like she always had. I leaned down and kissed her forehead, more on instinct than anything else. I walked her back to my room.

“It’s kinda smelly in here baby. Here.” She said, walking to the window and cracking it open, “There that’s better.”

I sat down on my bed, and she sat right next to me, leaning her head on my shoulder.

“How’d things go last night? You get a lot of work done?” She asked, nestling her head into my shoulder.

If everything I saw was real. If it wasn’t a dream. At least she didn’t recognize me last night.

“Oh uh, yeah, all good. I’m all caught up now.” I lied, “How was the party?”

A few moments of tense silence passed.

“It was good, you know parties aren’t really my thing. I’d much rather have been here with you.” She said, laying one hand on my leg, and I wrapped my arm around her on instinct.

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Sitting outside by the campfire, the fresh air feels so good on my bare skin, lover. It does make my nipples hard. You sit back while I get things going… My fingers rolling my nipples around, feeling them get even harder with my touch. Pulling on them, stretching them out then letting them fall back. Pinching them, baby and pulling them harder. That’s making my pussy cry out for attention!

Let me just slip a hand down…yep it’s crying all right…all wet! Taking my wet fingers and rubbing them on my nipples. The cool night air hitting the wet nipples and making them tingle. Let me suck on them, baby and make them warm again. First the right one, my lips sucking it into my mouth, my teeth gently tugging on it. Then the left one, going back and forth between them.

My pussy is just dripping now and really needs some attention. Let me just sit back and spread my legs wide. Make yourself comfortable, my love while I entertain you. Taking my hand I cover all of my pussy, pressing in on it, sliding my middle finger up the slit, feeling the wetness.

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My left hand tugging on my nipples, while I fuck myself for you. Moving my fingers faster now, and harder, pushing them deep into me. Four fingers now, ramming them in me. My legs spread wide and high to get my fingers in deep. In and out, baby harder and faster.

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You take my hand and slowly lick my fingers clean, tasting all of me, sucking on them. Then you move back to my pussy and slowly lick up every drop. Your tongue pressing harder into me, with each stroke. You feel so good, there baby! Feeling your tongue as you lick my pussy, flicking hard on my clit in the glow of the campfire.

Baby, I want you! You sit down and I straddle your lap. Rubbing your cock up and down my pussy, pressing it hard against my clit then sliding it deep in my pussy. All the way in, baby and I just sit there, my lips meeting yours as we kiss deeply. Slowly I start to ride your cock, up and down, sliding my pussy against the hardness of you.

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